


Provocateur

by QuillMind



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Childhood Friends, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fanart, First Time, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, High School, Jealousy, Kuroo has younger brothers, Masturbation, Original Character(s), Other, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9905900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: The so-called 'provocation expert' of Nekoma High School actually had an equal back in the day, in the form of you, his and Kenma's childhood friend.  After eight years, you've moved back to Tokyo for a surprise reunion, but considering you're no longer children, everything can't be the same, can it?





	1. Dandelion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᕕ( ⁰ ▽ ⁰ )ᕗ
> 
> Wuuuuut, my first Haikyuu fic! 
> 
> I'm one of those people who's often pretty resistant to hyped things, so it took some time for me to get into this series (props to [SabbyWrites](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyWrites) for talking me into taking the final plunge), and now I'm pretty damn in. Anyway, I make no secret of the fact that Kuroo is my favourite ('cause Nakamura), and I'm a sucker for the childhood friend-to-lovers trope, so here you have it. 
> 
> This was originally going to be a long one-shot, or a two-parter at best, but I ended up liking this high school horny romance story so much midway through, that I've turned it into a longer thing. I'm aware that this means I'm just spreading myself thinner and thinner across other story projects, but ey, considering this is strictly my non-paying hobby, I will do what I damn well please and write whatever strikes my fancy. Additionally, I also had this as taking place one year before the events of the main story, but that would mean I wouldn't have access to some of the characters who were first years, so I just have it starting roughly at the same time as canon. 
> 
> While not exactly a theme of this story, I was listening to [Tom Misch's "Nightgowns" (feat. Loyle Carner)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXT3_Uv-NR8) on infinite repeat while writing this chapter.

_"TECCHAN!!"_

You were right in the middle of introducing yourself to the class as the new transfer student to Nekoma High school when you zeroed in on the messy, black bedhead hair.  Even if you were in the middle of Shibuya's scramble crossing, you would be able to pick Tetsurou Kuroo out from the crowd. 

Your happy exclamation gave the Scheming Captain just enough time to snap out of his bored daydream and stand up from his desk before he was hit with a full-powered running jump hug.  Even against someone as tall and strong as Kuroo, your sheer enthusiasm and the element of surprise nearly sent him off of his feet. 

"Ohmygod ohmygod, Tecchan, it's really you!  Wow, you got _so_ tall!  Remember there was a time when we were basically the same height?  But I see your hair hasn't gotten any better, though!  And you _still_ look like someone who's up to no good." 

Recovering from having the wind knocked out of him, Kuroo blinked several times as his brain pieced together who was (still) hugging him and chattering away like a puppy.  He said your name awkwardly, like he wasn't convinced that you were really you.  The last time he had seen you, you were together at the nearby playground and you were both ten years old.  There had been a gap in your mouth where one of your baby teeth had fallen out, and you were being dragged away to a car by your mother who was mildly reprimanding for playing around and getting dirty on moving day.  His memory was hazy, but he could recall you looking over your shoulder at him until you were gone from sight, stray hairs sticking to your face with tears and your hand clutched tightly on something...

You grinned and let go of him, but still kept your hands gripping the opening of his blazer.  "Yeah, it's me!  This is awesome--I knew you were at this school, but I didn't think we'd be in the same class!" 

"Um, excuse me?" 

You spun around to look at the homeroom teacher, who was still standing up at the front of the classroom like an abandoned child.  "You were still in the middle of your self-introduction...?"

The hesitant teacher and dumbstruck students surrounding you apparently had no effect in dampening your giddy mood.  "Oh, right, I'm sorry!" you apologized, casting your eyes at all of your new classmates and hopping in place, "Uh, well, there's not much else to say, I came back to Tokyo recently after being away for eight years due to my mom's work moving us around, and my day just got way better because I'm in the same class with Tecchan who was my next-door neighbour and childhood friend!" 

Pausing for a beat, you pointed to the desk right next to Kuroo's.  "Is this taken?" you asked the teacher. 

The sheer power of your joyous attitude was like the sun's rays.  "Uh, no, it's open," the teacher replied. 

"Yes!  Then it's mine!"  You plopped down into the seat and set your bag on the hook on the side of the desk.  Kuroo took his seat as well, shell-shocked and still absorbing that you had come back to Tokyo.  You were pulling your pencil and notebook out of your bag with a smile, stopping when you realized that everyone, including Kuroo, was still staring at you. 

"Oh, excuse me--pleased to meet you!" you chirped, bowing your head to the class. 

Kuroo rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair--but if one were looking close enough, they would have caught the smirk that flitted across his face. 

If nothing else, his third year of high school was not going to be boring. 

****

As soon as classes ended, you were chatting again, stopping by the vending machine to get drinks.  Kuroo got a bottle of Aquarius, you chose milk tea. 

"Huh, so you lived all over the country since you moved?" 

You finished a big gulp of your tea before answering.  "Yep.  Osaka, Toyama, Beppu, Kagoshima... At one point we were in Taiwan and Hawaii, too." 

"Whoa, globetrotter over here." 

"Ha, maybe a little.  What about you?" 

Kuroo blinked and shrugged.  "Me?  Nah, no big trips.  I've always been here." 

"That's good," you smiled. 

Kuroo was unsure as to what you meant by that, but you raised your bottle to your mouth to drink again, discouraging him from asking you to elaborate. 

"You're kind of quiet, Tecchan.  What happened to that snotty brat that put bugs down my shirt and stole my candies?" 

"Hey," he said quickly, pointing a finger, "I didn't steal--you didn't want them anymore so I took them." 

You arched an eyebrow and tilted your head at him.  "I did too want them!  I was saving the muscat flavoured ones for last because those are the best ones!" 

He thought back to the memory of you, pouty and chasing after him with your tiny hands balled into fists.  He had cackled victoriously and stuck out his tongue at you to show the last gummy candy sitting on top of it before it vanished into his mouth.  You'd sulked and refused to speak to him for all of twenty minutes. 

"You snooze, you lose.  Besides, I was getting you back for putting mayonnaise in my cream puff."

You dragged the opening of the bottle off of your lips with a pop and swallowed.  "It was still _creamy_ , wasn't it?  Even when it was coming out of your nose." 

A sinister Cheshire grin formed over his face.  "You little--c'mere!"  Kuroo roared and lunged forward, ignoring your surprised squeal as he spun you into a chokehold and began tickling you. 

" _So_ not fair!" you laughed hysterically, dropping your drink and unable to decide whether to try breaking out of Kuroo's grip or keeping guarding yourself from being tickled.  "Stop, Tecchan, goddammit, stop!" 

Your demands fell on deaf ears as Kuroo kept up his merciless attack, laughing himself.  Though he had the obvious advantage in strength, you weren't exactly a pushover either, thrashing about with all your might like a hyperactive foal. 

"T--Tecchan stop, stop, if you don't I'm seriously going to pee my pants!" you shrieked. 

"Ooh, now _that_ would make for an embarrassing first day as the transfer student!" he said gleefully. 

"Oh, you son of a bitch!"  You twisted violently to avoid his fingers, but it was all in vain.  Ever since you were kids, whenever Kuroo caught you like this, it was impossible for you to escape. 

"If you swear to call me Kuroo-sama from now on, I might let you go!" 

"I will _never_ do that!"  Both of your words were distorting from all the jerky movements you were making. 

"Then I hope you brought some spare underwear with you, 'cause we're not going anywhere." 

"Noooo!!" 

"I see things haven't changed a bit." 

You and Kuroo both froze to see Kenma standing a few feet away, looking somewhat curious, but otherwise unaffected. 

The childish excitement fizzled out immediately and Kuroo let go, allowing you to catch your breath.  An odd current was felt between you two as if you'd been caught doing something illicit, despite these epic battles of yours (or, as they were once known, weekdays) being something you had done ever since you knew each other. 

"Ken-chan, it's been a while!" you said, still panting.  "How've you been?"

Kenma looked slightly off to the side and shrugged.  "All right," he mumbled, before looking at you again.   

"You got tall, huh, Ken-chan?"

While it was true that Kenma was a little taller than you, he would have still found it mildly condescending to be told such a thing (though he was used to it).  But you were different.  Just like Kuroo, you had a special bond with him that came from years of practically living together. 

"You're back in Tokyo," he said, sounding like something between a statement and a question. 

"Yeah, mom says we won't be going anywhere anymore, so guess I'm here to stay.  We'll be able to spend high school together."  You studied your other childhood friend for a moment, then said, "I'm glad." 

"Huh?" 

"Even if you've dyed your hair, you're still the same Kenma.  That makes me happy to see." 

Kenma blinked, at a loss for words.  You smiled at him and his eyes widened fractionally.  _Ah, there it was._   Even eight years later, you still had that same guileless smile, the one that could light up a room.  He had forgotten how open you were, how accepting you were of him; Kuroo always cared for him in his own pushy way, encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone, while you had always let Kenma be himself, content to read manga or play games with him when Kuroo's energy  became too much for him.  When it came to Kenma, you and Kuroo influenced him in different directions, but rather than conflict, it allowed him to see where he should strive to change and where he was allowed to stay the same. 

"Y--yeah," he clumsily said while scratching his head.  "Kuro, we should get going." 

"Right."  Kuroo tossed his now empty bottle in the recycling bin and picked up his bags. 

"Hey, wait, let me come with you!"  You dusted off your own bottle and put it in your bag. 

Kuroo frowned.  "You don't even know where we're going." 

 _"Tecchan,"_ you said, in that same, tone you'd used once when you'd discovered Kuroo had used your favourite doll as a target to serve balls into, "classes are over at this school that's known for its volleyball team.  Where else could you _possibly_ be going?" 

****

The presence of a girl in the gym during the boy's volleyball practice got the exact sort of reaction Kuroo expected.  While the rest of the team showed a general curiosity towards the unfamiliar face that came in with their captain and setter, Yamamoto was red-faced, bug-eyed and on the verge of a heart attack, collapsing on the polished floor when you happened to look his way.  Yaku sighed and went over to the wing spiker to kick him awake.

After greeting Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi, you got their permission to be a spectator for the team's practice session.  Leaning against the wall, you watched as everyone came out in their workout gear and did their warm-ups before getting ready to start practice matches. 

"Hey, wouldn't it be better for you to be up on the bleachers?" Naoi asked with concern.  "It's not uncommon for stray balls to come flying, you know." 

"Hmm?  Don't worry about me," you said.  "I won't get hurt.  I want to stay close to the action."

Naoi didn't look convinced, but let you stay where you were.  Nekomata looked at you for a moment longer, then turned back to the court. 

"Yo, Kuroo," Yaku said as the team members split up, "so who is that girl that came in with you?  You know her?"

"Oh, she's an old childhood friend of mine and Kenma's.  Used to live a few houses away so we played together a lot." 

"Huh, she's kinda cute." 

Kuroo frowned and pivoted, his shoe squeaking sharply on the floor.  "Think so?  I don't know, I can't exactly see her that way.  Come on, let's get started." 

****

_"Hurry up, Kenma, let's do some more spikes!"_

_Six-year-old Kenma's shoulders slumped, and he gave his friend a sidelong glance.  "Can we stop for today?  I'm tired."_

_Kuroo, age seven, scrunched his brow and squeezed the ball between his hands.  "Just a bit more!  I know I can get it right!"_

_"It's already getting late," Kenma whined, sitting down on a large rock.  "And I wanna go home--there's that new game I haven't started yet."_

_Kuroo hated to admit it, but it was true--the sky was already transitioning into orange hues, and crows could be heard cawing in the distance.  Practicing by the riverbank allowed them privacy and the space to do as they pleased, but it was some distance away from their neighbourhood; if they left too late, it would be dark before they got home, which would earn them a scolding from their parents._

_But he didn't want to stop just yet.  "Just a few--"_

_"Let me do it!"_

_You were in front of Kuroo before he realized it, holding your hands on your hips._

_"I can do it--let Ken-chan go home, and I'll block for you, okay?  So come on, let's go!"_

_Kenma looked on in bemusement, but Kuroo was only annoyed._

_"You're just a girl, you can't block!" he said, wrinkling his nose, even if it was true that you were just as rambunctious as he was, sometimes rivaling him in the number of band-aids and scratches on your limbs.  To be fair, he also just really liked seeing you get mad._

_On your Top Ten List of Words/Phrases You Hate, "just a girl" and "can't" were in your top three.  "Who says?  I watch you and Ken-chan all the time!  Or are you chicken?  Chicken, chicken, chicken-head!"_

_Kenma could practically see the steam shooting out of Kuroo's ears._

_"Fine!  Get on the other side of the net!" Kuroo yelled.  "But don't come to me crying if you get hit!"_

_You were already digging your feet into the ground for a solid stance.  "I won't cry!  Hurry up, butt-face!"_

_Snorting, Kuroo tossed the ball up high.  He ran to the net and bent down to get as much spring in his little legs as possible, then shot himself skyward.  His hand came down behind the ball, his eyes followed it--_

_And saw you on the other side, arms reaching out, a few inches above._

_You had jumped higher than him--?_

_The shock froze Kuroo for a second, but his instinct tore through that paralysis and screamed at him to act.  Without hesitation, he struck the ball down with a shout.  It all happened so fast.  There was a loud smacking sound, but the spike never hit on the other side.  Kuroo landed on the ground and caught a glimpse of the ball bouncing behind him._

_"See!  I told you I could do it!"_

_Your voice was oddly shaky, and you were expelling your words through clenched teeth.  Kuroo looked back to see you, still separated by the net which suddenly looked like you wanted it there to distance you from him.  You were rigid and had your hands partially obscured behind your back.  The setting sun shadowed your face, but Kuroo could still make out the fierce expression you wore._

_Before he had a chance to say anything, you spat out, "I'm tired, I'm gonna go home," and scrambled up the grassy hill to run towards the road, holding one fist tightly with the other the whole time._

_With the atmosphere inexplicably turned awkward, Kenma and Kuroo also went home.  It wasn't until dinner that Kuroo's mother asked him if he knew anything about what had happened to you--that she had been speaking with your mother on the phone, and learned that you'd arrived home bawling, squeezing your left hand's index and middle finger so hard they were ghostly white.  You'd told your mother that your hand got hit, but gave no other details, only shaking your head and mumbling "I don't know" through sobs and sniffles._

_Kuroo told his mother he didn't know either, but after hearing that news, his dinner and dessert tasted bad for some reason.  None of his toys kept his attention, and he tossed and turned in bed a hundred times without being able to fall asleep.  Finally, after everyone else in the house had gone to sleep, he angrily jumped out of bed and got dressed._

_Sneaking out of his house was easy enough--he had done it many times already when he, you, and Kenma had gone out to try exploring a nearby abandoned house one summer (which ultimately, you all chickened out of).  He didn't have any plan to speak of, his legs just moved on their own, and the next thing he knew, he was in front of your house._

_He stared up at your window for a few minutes, then looked around him for ideas.  A spot of colour caught his eye._

_He slipped once or twice while climbing the drainage pipe, but managed to make it to your window in one piece.  He placed his offering where he knew you'd see it, then thought long and hard on his next task.  It was another thirty minutes before he finished, climbed down and snuck back home to dash into his bed.  Dirt was on his hands and knees, but he felt a little better, and soon fell asleep._

_The next morning, when you woke up and opened the curtains, you blinked at what you saw.  Lying on the sill were a few stems of dandelion flowers, their stalks a little bent as if they had been held too tightly.  On the glass itself was a message, written in the dust with someone's finger.  Evidently the messenger had written it backwards from their perspective so that you could read it; the letters were skewed, and there were numerous spots above and below the message that indicated failed attempts that had been wiped away._

_S O R R Y_

****

Following practice matches and drills, Nekomata called the team to gather around.  Everyone had a towel draped over their heaving shoulders, and were drinking out of their water bottles. 

"All right, guys, we've got some good news," Naoi announced.  "Starting tomorrow, our team will finally have... a manager!"  Showing some dramatic flair, he stood back to present you, who promptly waved to the team. 

"Hi!"  You piped up, casting a quick grin to Kuroo and Kenma.  "Um, I'm a third year, and I did manage sports teams at a few of my other schools--although it was for soccer and basketball...  But I'm really happy to be at Nekoma, and I look forward to working with all of you!"  You bowed politely.  "Please take care of me!" 

A ripple of enthusiasm went through the team, and they all bowed back.  "Nice to meet you!  Please take care of us!" 

Inuoka and Shibayama did double fist pumps and said something you couldn't hear, and Fukunaga gave you a polite nod.  Kai was about to say something when everyone's attention went to Yamamoto, who was down on his knees with his hands clasped together.  A fuzzy air of sentimental sparkles seemed to circle around him. 

"Finally...  We have... A lady manager..." he trembled from his wish being fulfilled, a reservoir's worth of tears were streaming from his eyes.  As if there were an invisible spotlight on him, he then thrust his hands to the heavens and cried out joyously, "LIFE IS BEAUTIFUUUULLL!!"

"Oh, come on," Yaku groaned, "you seriously gonna embarrass yourself in front of our new manager right off the bat?"

Nekomata rolled his eyes as Yamamoto continued his dramatic wailing.  "Anyway, we have practice matches with other schools coming up soon, so we can use all the help we can get."  He turned to address you.  "And since you're already friends with Kuroo and Kozume, they can answer any questions you have whenever we're not around." 

Yamamoto's ears pricked and he was hauled out of his moment.  "Wait, did I hear that right?  Kuroo-san, Kenma, you two were already friends with her!?" 

Kenma nodded.  "She used to live near us when we were kids, so the three of us played together." 

You gave Yamamoto a friendly smile.  "Tecchan and Ken-chan always played volleyball, so I learned the basics from them." 

The immediate space around Yamamoto noticeably desaturated as his jaw dropped.  "Childhood friends...  Cutesy nicknames... Reunited at the same school...  A blossomed beauty...  Kuroo-san, Kenma, you two are so blessed!!" 

By now Kuroo had had more than enough.  "All right, let's clean up and get the fuck outta here," he said, and the rest of the team took his cue to walk away before they were caught in the deluge of Yamamoto's manga tears. 

Once all of the equipment was put away, they all said their goodbyes for the day and headed home.  You walked together with Kuroo, Kenma being situated between you two as you'd always done so that he could keep his attention on whatever game he was playing in the moment without having to worry about his surroundings. 

"You don't still live at the same place, do you?" 

You shook your head at Kuroo.  "We're at a condo now." 

"A condo?  La-dee-da, fancypants." 

"Shut up," you said, punctuating your retort with a punch to Kuroo's arm.  "Are you both still at your houses?" 

They nodded. 

"Cool.  I should drop by and say hi to your parents some time--maybe I'll get to hear some humiliating stories about your middle school years." 

"Pfft, not likely.  I bet your mom could tell us about your loser ex-boyfriends--oh wait, I guess she can't, since those never existed." 

Kenma ignored the arms that stretched out from either side of him to engage in a slap fight, slowing his pace or ducking his head a little to avoid the fast strikes.  It had become second nature to him some time ago.  His house was closer, so he said his goodbyes to the both of you and headed inside, still tapping away on his phone. 

Now alone, you and Kuroo looked at each other. 

"So where's your place?" he asked.  "I'll walk you there." 

"Why, so you can stalk me?" 

He scoffed and turned his chin up as he began to follow you.  "Don't flatter yourself.  Guys don't go for girls who can go toe-to-toe with them at kibasen." 

"Don't be so sure," you said slyly, circling Kuroo meaningfully.  "A fresh eighteen-year-old in a sailor school uniform with killer legs?  It wouldn't take me much effort to get guys to notice me, you know." 

You had his gaze locked on yours, but you knew it was straying to notice the way your hand was slowly pulling the hem of your skirt up your thigh. 

"See, you're totally staring, you perv!" 

Kuroo made a snarling laugh.  "Of course I'm gonna stare--it's not every day that I encounter a slut in the wild." 

Rather than shooting back a biting remark, you laughed also.  The walk to your place seemed to take a lot less time than when you'd left for school this morning.

"Shit, you live here?" Kuroo whistled with surprise at the impressive building.  It was only a few years old, with a chic and modern design aesthetic, balanced by the foliage provided by the artfully arranged garden that led to the front entrance. 

"Yeah, it's pretty close to the station, so it's convenient," you shrugged.  "Mom's an executive, so she works more than ever now, you know." 

Kuroo didn't miss the brief solemnity on your face.  Your mother worked at an advertising company, so it had been a common thing for you to be left at Kuroo's house in his parents' care while she stayed to do overtime at the office.  In the early days you cried sometimes, then progressively less as he'd teased you about it. 

Together, you stood in front of the entrance for a minute.  "I'm really glad we're going to the same school, Tecchan," you said after a while with an unreadable expression.

Kuroo's reaction was delayed, as if he'd somehow forgotten that fact.  You two had so easily fallen into your old act of baiting each other that it was like you were kids again.  "Yeah," he said, "I'm glad too." 

More silence, then he threw out the question that had been nagging him for the past eight years.  "Why didn't you tell me you were moving?" 

You bit your lip and directed your eyes to the ground, to the large doormats, the steel, cylindrical ashtray in the background, the track lights lining the walkway, and Kuroo's ASICS trimmed with scuff marks. 

"I don't know, I guess I figured if I kept it a surprise, I'd be able to weasel out of having to pay you back for those ice creams I owed you for when I lost the bet for our bike race."  You let that sentence sit for a bit, then peered up to see Kuroo's incredulous look before breaking into a fit of giggles.  "I'm kidding, you idiot!  Seriously, I don't know why I didn't tell you, I probably just forgot or something." 

Kuroo blinked, then sighed in resignation.  "Sure, I could see that happening.  You're pretty forgetful and all--" 

For the second time that day, he was robbed of thought and action as you grabbed onto him for a tight hug.  Despite being easily a head shorter than him, you had an impressive hold that only got stronger when he tried to pull away to look at you.  Standing on the tips of your toes, you moved so that your lips were right by his ear.  The words were spoken softly, but there was a weird power behind them that seized Kuroo. 

"I missed you, Tecchan," you said.  There was a beat, and before Kuroo had a chance to respond, you took a deep breath and pressed yourself closer to his chest to add in sotto voce, "I know it's difficult, but try not to notice my boobs too much, okay?  I can only imagine how awkward it'd be to run into the neighbours while you have a hard-on in your pants." 

You jumped back just in time to catch Kuroo's face, stricken and faintly pink before it fully switched over to pissed off.  He swiped at you, but this time you were faster and got away, triggering the glass sliding doors to open. 

"See you tomorrow, Tecchan!" you laughed, waving and sticking your tongue out before disappearing behind the corner. 

"Bitch!" Kuroo called out, rubbing at his ear.  He quickly looked left and right to make sure no one else was around, then turned on his heel and began jogging towards home.

****

You ran up the stairs at top speed, too full of adrenaline in the moment to stay still.  Panting with a smile plastered on your face, your footsteps echoed on the steps loudly and quickly, until the rush had exhausted itself and you stopped between the sixth and seventh floor.  Gulping dryly and wiping sweat away from your forehead, you waited to catch your breath before heading to the elevators. 

You and your mother had just moved in the day before, so there were still plenty of boxes lining the floor of the suite.  The bathroom and kitchen, however, were already stocked with their relevant items, a task that you'd done yourself since your mother was at work.  The note from her on the kitchen counter said that tonight would be yet another late night, and that she wouldn't need dinner or lunch for tomorrow. 

Once in your room, you dumped your bag on the floor and collapsed onto your bed.  The energy that you were just charged with had been replaced with dazed reflection. 

You were really surprised with how big Kuroo had gotten in the years you'd been away.  Those skinny arms and legs had become corded with lean muscle, and his throat now moved noticeably with an adam's apple whenever he talked.  His hair hadn't changed, though, you thought with a smile, and while his voice was now deeper, he still had that smarmy quality to every word he said, paired with his smug, cocksure grin that, combined, were extremely effective weapons in taunting anyone, including you.  Only at some point in the last eight years, his habits had gone from making you want to kick him to making you want to sit next to him, kiss him, touch him, be touched by him--

You blushed and buried your head into the covers, as if you could hide from your thoroughly active imagination.  When you first jumped into his arms in class, you were just innocently happy the way you were when you were ten years old, but as the day had gone on, it sank in for you more and more that the child you knew was now a man.  During volleyball practice, your eyes were glued to him as he darted around the court, shouting to his teammates and hunting the ball like a predator while dripping with sweat.  How much better would it be to have that dripping onto you from above while he shouted your name as he drove himself into you? 

A frustrated whine escaped you as you weakly punched your pillow.  Shifting to lie on your side, you were reminded of how sweaty you were--and the eager wetness that was building between your legs. 

_Stupid Tecchan.  This is all your fault._

You took a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself.  _You got this._   You were going to get cleaned up, have dinner, make lunch for tomorrow, and review that old book of volleyball rules that you had somewhere.  You were determined to screw with Kuroo to make him even more of a wreck than he made you. 

And maybe possibly probably somewhere in that schedule you'd find the time to relieve some tension by giving your fingers a workout while thinking of how good it would feel to ride Kuroo's face. 

Pouting, you grabbed a change of clothes and stomped off to the bathroom.  Since becoming a teenager, you had come to appreciate the privacy that being a latchkey kid brought you. 

****

Tell a person to not think of elephants, and what happens next? 

Kuroo was glad that his tracksuit was loose enough to hide any unexpected occurrences, though he'd still run like a devil on steroids to get back to the safety of his room. 

For years he hadn't thought about you.  The day you left, regretfully blurting out that you were moving when your mother came to retrieve you from the playground, he'd been dealt the gut-punch of his young life.  For days he went back and forth between sad and angry, not saying much even to Kenma but being even more relentless in his volleyball training.  But eventually time went on, and he had other things happen in his life, including a couple of girlfriends, though neither had lasted particularly long due to him prioritizing volleyball.  This year, with the third years that had previously bullied Kenma now graduated and gone, was looking to be a promising one. 

Then you'd jumped back into his life, _literally_ , looking nothing at all like how he remembered.  In his mind you only existed as the stubborn, smart-ass tomboy kid who made his day by hoping to challenge him in being the 'provocation expert.'  Yet now, you wore eyeliner and lip gloss, drawing his attention to those hypnotizing places as if they contained the answers to countless mysteries.  Shit, just the fact that you had a waist and hips were still things he had to get used to.  Your legs no longer matched his with bruises and scratches, instead now being shapely and smooth and suggesting the path to something delicious and damning, and goddamn you, how could he not notice your tits when you were deliberately squashing them against his chest?  Whatever their size, he could feel how soft they were, and was instinctively convinced that they would feel amazing in his hands and mouth. 

_Fuck._

Kuroo growled and turned over in his bed.  A big part of him had serious resistance to having even remotely sexual thoughts about his childhood friend, but an even _bigger_ part of him was insisting that to do so would be the best thing in the world. 

The debate between horniness and superego was ended in less than ten seconds. 

The raging, hormonal fantasies of you sucking his cock wedged between your tits and riding him like a horse were longer, though Kuroo, his stomach and hands messy with his relief when it was over, hoped they were not a reflection on how much he'd last in real life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intent on having both characters jack n' jillin' it already in the first chapter, I swear. :D
> 
> Plans always change, but so far I'm thinking of making this story more or less span an entire school year, with the couple's relationship maturing over that period. 
> 
> Thoughts? Questions? Preferences on sex positions for the characters to use? Feel free to comment, or hit me up on [Tumblr](http://tanzanitedepths.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MarikoHosoi)


	2. Custard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, please note for the record that this story will in high probability NOT be updating this frequently--I just really wanted to get this next chapter up because Kuroo is such an inspiration for me right now. (๑•́ω•̀๑)

_Kenma's room was a haven of manga and games.  He had multiple bookshelves dedicated to housing countless comics, game guide and art books, discs and character figures._

_Kenma himself was sitting on the floor playing an RPG, while you lay on your side on his bed and watched.  You didn't mind that you weren't playing, since you were interested in the stories of RPGs more than anything.  Kenma knew you preferred the ones that allowed you to name all of the characters, so that then you could choose which one would be named after yourself, Kenma, and Kuroo.  Only today, your attention was elsewhere._

_"Hey, Ken-chan."_

_Kenma kept his eyes glued to the TV.  "What?"_

_"Can I tell you something?"_

_"Okay."_

_"But you have to keep it a secret."_

_Kenma frowned.  Secrets were a rarity with you.  "Okay."_

_"You can't tell anyone, even Tecchan."_

_"Why don't you want Kuro to know?  You tell him everything."_

_You were quiet for a while.  Kuroo himself wasn't with you today on account of having to go to a doctor's appointment.  It was never the same when the three of you weren't together, but right now you were glad he couldn't see you._

_"I'm moving next month."_

_Kenma's hands stopped.  He put down the controller and turned around.  The battle on screen was at a standstill with the enemy monsters and heroes alike standing in their idle animations._

_"Really?"_

_You nodded.  "Yeah."_

_"To where?"_

_"Osaka."  You sat up and grabbed the Dragon Quest Slime plush pillow next to you and hugged it to your chest.  It was your birthday gift to Kenma last year, after you'd spent half an hour and well over 1000 yen on a crane game machine in the arcade._

_Kenma looked at you, nonplussed.  Like Kuroo, you had been a permanent fixture in his life.  Now you were leaving?  It didn't feel right._

_"But you'll come back, won't you?"_

_"I don't know.  Mom says it's for work."_

_"Why don't you wanna tell Kuro?"_

_You brought your knees up and squeezed the pillow harder, partially hiding your face behind it.  "I don't know," you mumbled.  Your voice became even smaller.  "He'd be mad.  I don't think we could play the same.  I want things to be normal until I have to go."_

_Kenma normally wouldn't speak if he didn't want to, which was most of the time.  It was too hard to deal with people, so it was easier to be silent than to risk saying something wrong.  But he so wished he knew what to say to you right now._

_A sniffle broke him from his desperate brainstorming, and he looked up to see you rubbing your eyes.  When your hand was out of the way, you were smiling._

_"I'm sorry, Ken-chan, I made things weird.  Come on, let's get back to the game, I wanna see what happens when they get to the castle!"_

_You were always like this with him.  You knew what he wasn't comfortable with, so you adjusted yourself to be at his pace._

_Kenma nodded and unpaused the game.  When he got to the castle and entered the dungeon, he kept using the characters that had his, yours and Kuroo's names, even though it was an area that would have been better suited to other party members._

****

It was no small blessing that you had joined the volleyball team as manager, considering they'd been without one for some time.  Not to say that the team and its members were lazy, but there were small details here and there that showed a lack of care that was deserved.  Some of the balls were cracked and frayed, and a few of the towels had holes in them.  The club room was spacious enough, but there was a lot of clutter on the shelves, and equipment and supplies were merely jammed wherever they could fit. 

You took the reins up right away, throwing out anything that was too old or damaged, and filling out requisition orders for replacements.  While other managers, particularly female ones, might have been cowed by being surrounded with so much testosterone or too worried about offending to speak up, you were far from having that problem.  You kept track of the team members' stats and progress, being sure to reprimand one whenever he was lacking in performance on any given day, and reminded them to wash their tracksuits more often so that they didn't stink so much.  "We're supposed to be cats, not wet dogs," you'd tell them. 

This overwhelming energy you had that resembled a force of nature partially owed itself to the many years of moving around that you'd done.  After meeting new faces and introducing yourself so many times, any shyness or intimidation you had was bound to be worn away eventually.  It also had to do with the pure joy that came with knowing you could put your suitcases into the closet and not have to take them out again.  You could settle, and really get to know the people at your school. 

But Nekoma was not just any school.  It was in Tokyo, your hometown, your birthplace.  And more than anything, it was where Kenma and Kuroo were.

****

"I guess being manager makes sense for you," Kuroo mused.  "You always were the bossy type." 

"And _you're_ any different, being the captain of the team?" you asked, cracking open the lid of your jasmine tea.  "You have to be bossy if you want to get results!" 

You, Kuroo and Kenma were having lunch on the far side of the school grounds.  There was a quiet spot with large, shady trees and park benches to sit on.  Kenma, like you, had a boxed lunch from home, while Kuroo had a sandwich, yogurt and drink bought from the school shop. 

"Anyway, Coach Nekomata said that my presence is helping the team.  Who was it that cleaned up the club room and organized everything, hm?" 

"If you do everything like that, don't you think you might become more of a servant than a manager?" Kuroo said through mouthfuls of his sandwich.  "Maybe a maid costume would look better for you than a team tracksuit?" 

"Well, _then_ I'd have to charge you for that," you said, popping a sweet egg roll into your mouth.  Holding out a finger to indicate you weren't finished, you chewed quickly and swallowed before continuing.  "Anyway, I'm not being a servant, I'm just doing what I can to make us better." 

"Well, if anyone's a servant, it'd probably be Yamamoto," Kenma mumbled.  "When he found out you cleaned the club room, he carried your bags for the rest of the day."

Kuroo rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, I remember," he snorted, finishing off the last of the sandwich. 

"What, you _jealous_ , Tecchan?  Taketora was just showing his appreciation for the good job I did."

"As long as Yamamoto doesn't slack off in practicing, he can be your lifetime slave for all I care."

To be fair, Yamamoto would be fawning like an idiot over _any_ girl.  Why he didn't fawn over any _other_ girl was the real point of irritation for Kuroo. 

****

With practice over, the team began cleanup duties.  Kenma and Kuroo were lowering the net while others gathered the balls and put the chairs away.  Not seeing you among them, Kuroo looked around, focusing when he heard an anguished screeching sound. 

You were wearing your new red team tracksuit and a concerned look on your face as you were on your knees, leaning on Lev's back for his forward fold stretches.  

"That's not very far at all, Lev!" you said, easing off of him, "look at all the space between your fingers and toes." 

"But I can't go any further, it hurts too much!" Lev cried out, wincing from the strain. 

"Okay, well let's try it this way, then.  Stand up, space your legs about shoulder-length apart--a little more, that's it--and keep your knees relaxed.  And take a deep breath, then bend down towards the floor from the waist."  You took the breath together, exhaling as you held your hand on his back to gently lead him.  Lev groaned. 

"Good, now clasp your elbows in front of you with your hands, and slowly straighten your legs, but don't lock your knees.  Yes, yes...  And now take ten breaths, then bring yourself up again, but not too fast." 

Lev did as instructed, grunting but clearly doing better than he was when doing forward folds.  After the ten breaths, he rose to full height, with you supporting him by rubbing his shoulder and lower back.  The look on his face was one of sheer amazement. 

"Whoa, that was way easier than when I was sitting down, did you see that!?" 

"I saw, that was really good," you smiled, patting his arm.  "If some stretches are harder to do, you can work around them with other positions, or just do an easier version of them.  It's important to keep up your flexibility, but it's pointless if you hurt yourself from trying too hard, okay?" 

"Got it!  Thanks a lot, I'll keep doing that one from now on!" 

You nodded and swiftly pointed towards the court.  "Back to cleaning up!" 

"Aww..."  But Lev trotted off to help his teammates anyway. 

Coach Nekomata called your name, and you went to him to discuss something.  Kuroo went back to folding the net up with Kenma, wondering why you had to be so touchy-feely with the guys. 

Your conversation with the coach lasted all the way until cleanup was finished and everyone cleared out of the gym.  The walk home with Kenma and Kuroo went as normal, Kenma being quiet and engrossed in his game while you and Kuroo traded stories and insults.  

You were alone at home again, with another note from your mother left on the counter saying she would be late.  You touched the square of paper, eyes following the familiar rushed handwriting.  It wasn't as if your mother didn't love you.  As a child, it had been hard to comprehend her absences, but with age you understood that this was the sacrifice she had chosen to make to pursue the job she loved, as well as provide for you and her.  And she did show her affection in other ways.  She could have texted you to let you know she would be late, but she elected to write notes whenever she could, to leave something physical for you.  Subtle things sometimes meant the most. 

But you would have been lying if you said you didn't miss her.

Eating dinner and doing your homework seemed to breeze by.  TV held no appeal, and there wasn't anything to clean, although you made sure to wipe away the off mote of dust you saw.  You considered looking into getting some games to play.  Kenma was sure to have some recommendations; you would ask him tomorrow. 

It was far too quiet.  You were used to it, but every once in a while...  Everything was unpacked, but the place still lacked some more personal touches.  You thought back to Kenma and Kuroo's houses.  They had mismatched furniture, old trinkets, posters, and photos.  Cute covers for tissue paper boxes that Kenma's mother had bought.  Pencil and pen marks on the wooden doorway to the kitchen that marked Kuroo's growth from childhood.  Their houses had been lived in. 

Your place was sterile and cold.  It had yet to become yours. 

You needed to get out. 

Pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, you grabbed your jacket and left the condo.  The convenience store that the three of you frequented as kids was still within walking distance.  The fluorescent lights made the shop stand out like a beacon in the otherwise dark suburbs.  As you neared, a tall figure emerged from the doors. 

"Tecchan?" 

Kuroo turned his head up to look at you.  He was still wearing the same track pants and t-shirt from earlier, but wore a black hoodie on top.  The automatic door swished closed behind him with a cheerful ding.  "Yo.  What're you doing here?" 

"I got bored, so...  Just came to get some fresh air," you answered. 

"Hmmm," Kuroo simply said, narrowing his eyes at you.  "Was baby girl getting all lonely being in a new place by herself?"

"I was not!"  You smacked his arm, hoping you weren't blushing.  _Baby girl.  He just called you baby girl.  Like how boyfriends call their girlfriends.  Except no, this is Tecchan, so he's just saying it to mess with you._  

"Riiiiiight," Kuroo drawled, leaning in to leer at you.  "Just like the time you _totally_ weren't crying because you were afraid to go to the bathroom at night at my uncle's place in the summer.  Who was it that you woke up and begged to go with you, again?" 

 _Goddammit._   If you weren't blushing before, there was a seriously high possibility you were now.  "That place was scary as hell!" you protested, crossing your arms over your chest.  "You have to go all the way to the end of a pitch-dark hallway to get there, and in the middle of summer with bugs and animals making noise outside, and those small windows near the ceiling where you could see spider webs?  Anyone would have been scared!" 

"Yeah, whatever," he snickered, clamping his hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair.  "Here, come with me." 

"To where?" 

"To the abandoned lot where I'm gonna cut you up and sell your organs on the black market.  Just follow me and you'll see--you'll like it, I swear." 

"Is this so you can flash me your dick, Tecchan?" 

"I'm not that easy.  Well, maybe."

Kuroo led you to a small, empty lot that was on the way back to his house.  The plastic bag he'd gotten from the convenience store rustled as he pulled out a small, flat can and peeled the lid open.  It was too dark for you to make out what was on the label. 

"What's that for?" 

"Shh, just wait."  He crouched down near a pile of cement pipes and made whispery noises.  For a while there was nothing.  Then a thin scratching sound.  A dark point poked out from inside one of the pipes, followed by a tiny face with golden eyes. 

"Oh!" you nearly cried out, covering your mouth to keep from scaring the little thing.  It was a kitten of about five weeks of age, all black with ears that looked a bit too large for its head.  It trembled, probably being both scared and cold, but padded out of its home to brush by Kuroo's hand, clearly comfortable with him.  Kuroo gently scratched the kitten's head and laid down the can, which you now realized was cat food. 

"It's so small," you cooed, kneeling beside Kuroo. 

"Spotted him a few days ago on the way home," he said, the ground crunching beneath him as he sat down.  "Doesn't have a collar or tattoo, and I haven't seen any missing pet posters around, either." 

The kitten's head bobbed as it munched away on its meal, oblivious at being the topic of conversation. 

"So he doesn't have a home?" 

"Guess not." 

You sat down as well, watching the kitten eat.  The rounded shape of it reminded you of those soot sprites that appeared in _My Neighbour Totoro_.  You gingerly reached out a hand to pet the ball of fur, but just as you were about to touch it, Kuroo grabbed onto your shoulders and yelled like a ghoulish monster. 

You shrieked and nearly toppled onto your side, while Kuroo was also in danger of falling over, but from guffawing so hard.  The kitten jumped, his eyes darting back and forth between you two. 

"You asshole!" you exclaimed with a jab to Kuroo's side. 

"You were scared _then_ , weren't you?" he asked with an arched brow. 

You hated yourself for it, but in a few seconds, you were laughing with him. 

When the kitten finished its food, Kuroo filled the empty can with water to let it drink.  You sat back and watched the animal for a while. 

"Does your condo allow pets?" 

Your eyes went round, and you turned to match gazes with Kuroo.  The way he was looking at you made your heart up its pace, and you weren't sure why. 

"Um, no dogs, but small animals, yeah, it's fine." 

"Do you wanna take him home?  Mom's allergic to cats, and Kenma's parents are an absolute no to animals in their house." 

You stared at Kuroo, then at the kitten.  It waddled over to climb onto your knee, looking at you with boundless curiosity and mewing.  Lowering your hand, you let it sniff you, and giggled when it licked at your fingers.  With a little coaxing it climbed onto your lap and continued to squeak and mew, becoming much more docile when you started petting it. 

"He's so cute," you said delightedly.  The fur was so fine it was like goose down.  "I never had a pet before." 

"I know." 

The kitten squirmed as you picked it up, but once you securely cradled it in your arms and held it snugly against your chest, it accepted its new location. 

Kuroo could tell the decision was already made.  "What are you gonna call him?" 

You gazed at the black furball, its miniature paws batting at your hair.  When it noticed you looking, it twitched its ears and rolled over, yawning. 

"How about... Kurosuke?"

"...Seriously?" 

"Why not?" you argued.  "It's a black cat, and _you_ found him.  Kuro would be too weird since that's what Ken-chan calls you.  Besides... he kind of looks like you." 

Kuroo made a face at you, but then grudgingly had to admit that there was a mischievous gleam in those young eyes.  It was constantly looking around at everything, as if figuring out what were the best ways for it to cause trouble and have fun. 

You smiled, seeing that you'd won.  "Nice to meet you, Kurosuke." 

At your request, Kuroo accompanied you to the nearest supermarket, which was nearing closing time.  Hiding Kurosuke in Kuroo's hoodie, you swiftly made your way through the aisles together to buy some basic needs for a kitten, including litter, food, some toys, and a collar.  Without a single doubt in your mind, you'd picked out a red one. 

You paid for the items while Kuroo waited near the entrance, trying to subtly hide the fidgeting mass in his torso.  The second the two of you were out the door, he unzipped the hoodie midway to let Kurosuke pop his head out. 

"It's a chestburster!" you cried out in mock surprise. 

Kuroo rolled his eyes but played along, tossing his head back and writhing in pain while the furry little Xenomorph tried to get free of its confines, mewing and pawing at the cords for his hoodie. 

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, settle down already!" Kuroo grumbled, helping the kitten out to let it scramble up onto his shoulders.  "It's not my fault they don't allow pets in there." 

Kurosuke merely kept moving from shoulder to shoulder, occasionally slipping onto Kuroo's arm and having to be lifted up again as you made the trek back to your place.  At some point Kuroo pulled something out of the bag he'd gotten from the convenience store and tore open the wrapper. 

"What are you--is that a custard bun?" you asked as he tossed the bag in a trash can. 

"Uh-huh." 

"I've been meaning to say this, but you really should be eating better if you're going to be an athlete.  You're always eating prepackaged stuff from stores--a custard bun's just fat, sugar and carbs, you know." 

"I wanted a snack, okay? " Kuroo's voice was skewed from his mouth being full.  "And any fat I eat, I work off during practice, anyways." 

"You're still not getting enough vitamins or minerals with stuff like that!" you groaned.  With your momentum secretly built up, you bit your lip and took a quick breath.  "That's why I got you this!" 

You reached into your bag and brought out a brand new two-tier bento box, glossy black and grey, with matching black chopsticks and a drawstring bag. 

"Starting tomorrow, I'll start making lunches for you, too.  That way you don't have to buy convenience store stuff, and you'll be eating healthier." 

Kuroo blinked, almost allowing Kurosuke to grab a bite of his custard bun.  Kuroo moved it away just in time and gave the kitten a look. 

"You don't have to do that extra work," he said uneasily.  Kindness from you was usually the prelude to a kick to the shins.  Or a push into the river.  Or tattling to the teacher after getting him to admit to something. 

"It's really not--I already do most of the cooking at home, and making food for one extra person doesn't change much," you sighed dramatically. 

Silence. 

"I already bought the box, don't make me have to return it." 

More silence, when Kuroo saw that you were getting flustered. 

"I'm being _nice_ to you, okay?" 

"How long before the newspapers have a picture of my face with the story of how I died from arsenic poisoning?" 

You stamped your foot in frustration, knowing full well it made you look petulant.  What you didn't know, though, was how it made your chest bounce--and how Kuroo did _not_ fail to notice that.  "I'm not gonna poison you!  I'm seeing you again after all this time--do you really think I'd do something like that?" 

Kuroo noticed there was a flash of something vulnerable in your face, but then it was gone, blanketed by your cornerstones of bravado and defiance again.

"You were willing to put soy sauce in my Coke once, so you're probably capable of a lot of devious shit." 

"The same way you replaced the filling in my Oreos with toothpaste, jerk." 

"And you never got a cavity during all the years I knew you, right?" 

"Do you want the food or not!?" 

Kuroo had to support Kurosuke to prevent him from falling as he threw his head back to laugh.  No matter how old they got, teasing you was the most fun he'd ever had. 

"Yeah, yeah, I want the food.  That sounds great, I appreciate it." 

"All right, then," you said crisply as you approached your condo. 

After rearranging the bags, you held out your arms to have Kuroo hand Kurosuke over to you.  The kitten mewed in wonderment, at the tower in the background, at the two of you looking at each other. 

"Thanks for introducing us," you said, bringing Kurosuke up to nuzzle his face.  "I'll take good care of him." 

Even at gunpoint, Kuroo would have been incapable of not softening at the sight of you hugging Kurosuke.  In retrospect, he thought you were adorable as a child.  Lively, tenacious, outspoken and competitive.  All good qualities, which he was glad to see were still in you, but now he saw more; you were attentive, caring and thoughtful, as proven by the attention you gave the team and how happy you looked to be holding your new pet right now. 

"Okay, so look forward to tomorrow, then." 

Kuroo cocked his head as he held up the last piece of his custard bun.  "Sure, but don't think I'll go easy on the critiquing just because we're friends." 

You scoffed.  "By all means, judge away.  I've had enough practice to become a damn good cook.  So--" 

Making sure Kurosuke was safe in your arms, you leapt forward to chomp onto the custard bun clenched in Kuroo's teeth.  You saw an extreme close-up of his hazel eyes for a fraction of a second, his unruly hair sweeping against yours, then you tore the pastry out of his mouth, hopped back and quickly chewed up the sweet bread, swallowing with an impish grin. 

"You don't need to eat _that_ anymore, right?" 

Kuroo was still, though in his head he was staggering.  Your lips had come so close to his that he could make out their fullness and imagine how soft they were.  And now you were haughtily standing there like the biggest tease, and...  There was a dab of custard right next to your mouth.   Glossy and creamy, looking very reminiscent of the ending of so, so many AVs that he'd seen in the past.  And you didn't even appear to notice it was there!  The obliviousness of your situation combined with the kitten in your arms gave off an innocent vibe, which paradoxically was dirty and hot as _fuck_ \--

Never one to take a hit and let it slide, Kuroo moved with that formidable speed that made him such an effective blocker and stuck his tongue out to lick the bit of custard, brushing the tip over the corner of your mouth.  The tables are turned faster than they would at an Old West saloon filled with surly gamblers, and stunned awkwardness is all over your features. 

"Guess I don't," he said in a husky tone, licking his lips, "but guilty pleasures always taste the best." 

And with that, he patted Kurosuke's head before winking at you and heading back towards his house.  He didn't even try to be sneaky when he looked back to see if you were still standing there speechless, and he laughs out loud when you indeed are. 

Kuroo took back what he'd thought earlier about you having good qualities.  You're evil.  Obnoxious.  Loud.  Infuriating.  Bewitching.  Not his. 

Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sexual tension continues~! I'm quite enjoying writing this type of Reader character who's similar to Kuroo in a number of ways. 
> 
> Initially I was mulling over a variety of names to give the kitten, but then decided that simple is best--and the Reader gets to bug Kuroo extra by naming it after him. 
> 
> Thoughts? Questions? Opinions on how soon you think these two should bang? Say so to me at [Tumblr](http://tanzanitedepths.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MarikoHosoi)


	3. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom Misch's ["Nightgowns" song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXT3_Uv-NR8) applies to this chapter way more than the previous ones! 
> 
> Over 9000 words, this chapter! Lordy.
> 
> PRAISE ~~THE SUN~~ [momothesweet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet) and [kyakoin](http://kyakoin.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this! This chapter would be a lot rougher if not for them! ╰། ◉ ◯ ◉ །╯
> 
> *UPDATE April 17, 2017*  
> Added a fanart I made of Kuroo with Kurosuke, because why not?

[ ](https://tanzanitedepths.tumblr.com/post/159619348988/all-right-much-happier-with-this-than-the-last)

Something was brushing against your face.  A little bit scratchy, but also soft.  Gentle, yet insistent taps.

Your eyelids slivered to let in the world slowly, and you saw a blur of black and red.  A certain obnoxious middle blocker's face came to mind and chased your sleepiness away.

"Teccha..."  The name died on your lips as you saw who was responsible for your wakeup call.  What you thought was perpetual bedhead was, in fact, whiskers and pointy ears.

"Hi, Kurosuke," you smiled, holding out your hand to your roommate.  The kitten rubbed his head against you, but quickly became upright to stare at you again.  

"Do you always need to wake up before my alarm?" you sighed as you checked the time on your phone.  "It's nice that I'm never late, but still."

Kurosuke merely pawed at your fingers, meowing more demandingly as he looked at your face.  When you didn't move in the next second, you felt his teeth nibbling on your thumb.

"Okay, okay, let's go get breakfast."  Pulling the covers back, you got up and planted your feet on the floor.  Kurosuke, satisfied that he was getting what he wanted, hopped down and sat primly with his paws together, looking like a shoe-in for the Cutest Pet Ever Award.

You rolled your eyes as you stood up and left your room.  "You really are like your namesake, you know."

When you got to the kitchen, you saw that you were not alone.  "Mom!"

"Mm, hi hon," you mother said through a mouthful of toast.  Her coffee mug was already empty, along with a plastic cup of blueberry yogurt.  The focus of the dining table, however, were her folders of documents and cell phone, kept near her hands like the gun of a hitman.

"I didn't know you were home," you said, pulling a bag of cat food out of the cabinet.

"Got home at 2 am last night," she clarified, swallowing hard on her toast and quickly taking the last few bites like it was an obstacle to clear.  She held up a her hand to you as she chewed, a signal that you kept in your peripheral vision while filling Kurosuke's double feeder with water and food.  Kurosuke himself impatiently pranced around your feet, pawing your ankles and meowing.

"Shush, come on, I'm never _not_ going to feed you," you said, setting the feeder down on a vinyl placemat.  Immediately Kurosuke dove into his food with ravenous zeal, forgetting all about you.

Meanwhile, your mother had finished her meal, and spoke with a non-stuffed mouth.  "I see he's had no problem adapting to living here."

You gazed at the furball before standing up again.  "Yep, within a week of living here he struts around like he owns the place.  Thanks for letting me keep him."

"I didn't get much of a choice, did I?  You already had his food, litter, collar and toys set up here and met me at the door with him in your arms."  She was rolling her eyes, but smiling, too.  "Anyway, you're taking care of his every need, so not like I have anything to complain about.  And I'll admit, he's cute, too."

"He is, isn't he," you said, your thoughts elsewhere.

While you waited for the kettle to boil, you cleared away the dishes from the table and prepared your own breakfast.  Your mother juggled her attention between watching you and dealing with her phone, though there was a definite bias towards the latter.

"How's school so far?"

"It's great," you say easily and with total sincerity.  "I like my classes, I have friends, and managing the volleyball team's fun."  Cereal scattered into a bowl, which was then topped with slices of banana.

"You mean bossing around Tetsuro and Kenma?"

"That's just a bonus."  You brought a fresh mug of coffee to her and grinned.

Your mother gave you a sly sideways glance.  "And the clearly masculine-looking lunch box that you make every day?  Is that a bonus for you, too?"

"It's just more cooking practice for me," you snorted in a nonchalant way.

Thankfully, the topic was dropped.  "Anyway, I have to get going, but I wanted to let you know that I'll be away for all of next week.  Business trip in Hong Kong."  She motioned to the small travel suitcase by the front door.

"Yeah," you said, pouring hot water into a teapot.  You had noticed the suitcase sitting near the front door from the very beginning, but hadn't brought it up since you knew what it meant.

From inside one of her folders, she pulled out a small, plain envelope.  "This is money for groceries and anything else you need, plus a bit of extra."

"Mom--"

"I know you have your allowance, but listen, you're already taking care of this house full-time."  She glanced at her watch and sighed.  "I'm sorry that I reversed our roles.  It wasn't fair of me to force you to grow up so fast."

"Mom, you didn't force anything.  It made the most sense for this to happen.  It's because you're working so hard that I get to do club activities during my third year and still have money to spend.  Besides, you were never a good cook."

Your mother frowned, but it was half-hearted and quickly switched into a smirk.  "I'd be annoyed if you weren't absolutely right.  I just want you to remember that you're still a kid, so you're allowed to be needy from time to time."

Your lips went slightly pouty.  "I'm not a kid, mom."

"Only kids say that, honey," she said with mock condescension, patting your cheek.  At least you knew where you got that part of your personality came from.

"Okay, I need to run now, I'm going to be late," your mother said, gathering her files, phone and coat.  "Make sure you call me if anything happens."

"I will," you nodded, following her to the door.  Kurosuke, who had finished his breakfast by this point, padded after you curiously.

As she spoke, your mother masterfully slipped her shoes on and got her folders into her bag without dropping a single thing.  "Use some of that money for yourself--maybe get some stuff to decorate this place, turn it into our home.  And try not to overwork yourself!  You look a little pale, now that I think about it."

You touched your hand to the back of your head.  "I just didn't get enough sleep last night, mom, don't worry."

With impeccable timing, she was finished getting ready, and straightened to lock eyes with you.  "Never," she said, meaning it 100%.  Grabbing you in a tight hug, she smiled and then walked out, the sound of her heels and the casters on her suitcase giving you a bittersweet comfort.

****

"Where'd she go?" Kuroo asked Kenma.  After practice, everyone would help clean up the gym, yourself included, but today you were nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know," Kenma mumbled.  "I thought I saw her leave the gym a second ago."

Kuroo frowned and went back to his task.  Although, he supposed, he had experienced you disappearing on him without warning before.

It wasn't until everything was put away that you returned, wheeling in a large cart.

"Okay, guys, if you'd gather 'round!" you called out cheerfully.

The team members all approached to see that the cart held snacks for everyone--handmade onigiri and drinks.

"Did you make all this?" Kai asked.

There was an excited flush to your face.  "Yup!  The onigiri I made at home, but the smoothies I made using the cooking club's facilities.  I've noticed how you guys tend to just get junk food for after-practice snacks, so I thought this way would be healthier.  Banana smoothies, and you have your choice of tuna-mayo, salmon, soy sauce bonito, umeboshi, and salted pollock roe."

You didn't notice it, of course, but aside from Kuroo and Kenma, the rest of the team saw you then in a heavenly light, complete with angel wings and a halo.

One by one, you handed out paper cups to the team members.  There was enough for Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi, as well.  Not that that really mattered to the team at the moment, who were all mostly far too involved in devouring their snacks.

"This is real good!" Inuoka praised through a mouthful of rice.  "When you get used to convenience store onigiri, you forget how good the homemade stuff is!"

"You used brown rice in this?" Yaku asked.

You nodded.  "It's a 2-to-1 ratio of white and brown rice.  If it were all brown rice they would be too hard and not taste very good, but this way they'll keep their shape while having more vitamins and minerals than plain white rice."

Shibayama wiggled his tongue in his mouth after having a sip of his smoothie.  "What's this texture?  Nuts or something?"

"I added rolled oats to add fiber to it.  And with the yogurt and peanut butter, that makes for a high-protein drink that'll really replenish your energy after practice."

You went over to Kuroo and Kenma who were both much calmer in consuming their food, as opposed to Lev and Yamamoto who were inhaling theirs.

"Do I get a verdict from you guys?" you questioned eagerly.

"The bar of standards for hungry athletes is pretty low--you know that, right?" Kuroo said, balling up the saran wrap for his now-eaten onigiri.  "Hell, you could throw year-old jerky at Yamamoto and he'd still worship you."

"Which is why I'm asking _you_."

Kenma peered up from taking another bite of his tuna-mayo onigiri.  "It's good," he said simply.  "Just right for having after practice."

You felt a giddiness fill your chest.  If a taciturn person like Kenma found something worth mentioning, it was worth a lot.  If he complimented it, it was exceptional.

"Your review is appreciated," you said with a smile.  Then you cocked your head to face Kuroo.

His features slipped into a relaxed smirk.  "It's great.  What you did, what you do for the team--it's all fantastic."

"That's what I like to hear."  You were trying for cocky, but anyone could tell you were genuinely elated.

Kuroo pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.  "Although... it's way more effort and money to prepare food for a whole team than just one other person.  You sure you're okay doing this?"

You crossed your arms in a casual manner, hoping it didn't show that you were being defensive.  "I talked about it with Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi already.  Money's not a problem, but a very tiny bit of the club's budget is allocated to this.  And I'm being realistic; this is only going to happen on weekend practice."

Kuroo didn't look entirely satisfied, but he let the matter go.  "In that case, I'll request pork cutlet sandwiches for next week."

"Something with apples would be good," Kenma piped in.

"I'll take it into consideration, but don't promise anything.  I gotta go now--I need to take this cart back to the cooking club rooms now.  Also because I'm getting a really weird vibe for some reason."

Kuroo snorted in amusement.  "Ah, that's probably because Yamamoto's streaming tears of joy while staring at you like a follower who's found religion."

You chewed your lip.  Yamamoto was a good guy, and you liked him, but when it came to girls, he was quite hopeless.

"I can see what he's thinking right now," Kuroo laughed under his breath, "looking at you as the patron Saint of the Boys' Volleyball Club of Nekoma High, Our Lady of Delicious Food."

"I'd like to be a little more than that," you sighed as you started towards the cart.

Kuroo called out to you lightly, "Don't worry, you are."

****

Chiyo Sarashina and Mikage Okamoto were both classmates who had quickly become your friends.  Your lunch hours tended to be split between them or Kuroo and Kenma.  Today you were with the former, sitting together in the classroom, and the discussion had quickly turned to boys.

"So Naoki Terazawa is pretty hot, isn't he?" Mikage said conspiratorially while sipping from her juice box.  She had severe-looking narrow eyes and low, well-defined eyebrows that tended to make her look devious, but in truth, she was a sweet and considerate girl.

Chiyo, meanwhile, was round-faced with high cheekbones and full lips, and a mass of thick hair that looked to have about twice the volume of a normal person's.  Contrary to her youthful appearance, she was known to occasionally say or do things that were risqué.  "He's got really pretty eyes, yeah.  But Reiji Ooshiro has more of that bad boy look."

"What's the point in even considering Ooshiro?" you asked, chewing on a slice of apple.  "He's got a girlfriend, you know, that Reina Hayashi from class 2."

Chiyo narrowed her eyes and gave you a sidelong glance worthy of a sinister villain.  "Things change," she said simply.

"Please don't tell me you--"

"Pfft, no, I'm not gonna try to steal him!" your friend scoffed, taking the last bite of her sandwich.  "I'm just saying, realistically, the majority of high school relationships don't last.  Mind you, that doesn't mean I'm waiting for him or anything.  There are a few other quality candidates at this school."

You and Mikage snickered.  Having split up from her boyfriend who attended a different school a few months ago, Chiyo was now finally looking into scouring the seas again for a new fish.

"Well, in light of your restored hunger," Mikage said, "wanna go shopping after class today?  Retail therapy and all that?"

"Yes, totally!  What about you?"

You blinked, taking a second to respond.  "Oh, I'm sorry, I can't!  I have club duties today."

Chiyo and Mikage both whined in disapproval.

"You have club every single day!" Chiyo said.

"Not _every_ day!"

"Some weeks it is."

"Our team's busy," you defended.  "We've got a shot at the Spring Tournament."

"You can do club activities in university, but you're in high school only once," Mikage pointed out.  Between her and Chiyo, you were starting to feel like a child being given a talking-to from her parents.  "Come on, come with us.  It'll be fun."

What'll be fun?"

You spun in your seat to see Kuroo standing behind you, wearing an intrigued look that instantly became sly.  "Were you three talking about having a sleepover?  Pillow fights and make out practice and all that?"

"Far from it," you said with a roll of your eyes.  "Don't think just because you do that with your friends I do that with mine."

Kuroo raised his eyebrows and grinned.   _Shit_.  You realized too late that you'd set yourself up.

"Well, _we're_ friends, aren't we?" he said in a sing-song voice.  "Does that mean we'll be doing those things together?"  He bent down to bring his face closer to yours, the corner of his mouth sharply curving upward.

Your heart went faster than you would have liked from his sudden proximity.  Every feature came into focus.  His wiry black hair that had a mind of its own and went whatever direction it liked.  Those narrow, laser-focused eyes.  That male scent of 'Tetsurou Kuroo' that had replaced the sprightly brat's smell of dirt, sand, and your stolen candy.  With his body casting a shadow over you and him looking down from above, it was too easy for your mind to wander to a much more heated situation that would place you underneath him.

You kicked that thought away before it went any further and quickly mustered your most smug, contemptuous smile.  You could play this game just as well as he could.  "Sorry, but we weren't talking about some AV premise.   You're gonna have to get your jack-off material online like everyone else."

Anyone else would have vocalized some mild chagrin or become cross at your remark, or gone wide-eyed and guiltily giggled, like your friends were right now.  But Kuroo only smiled in amusement, the same way he did on the court right before game time.

"So I'll tell Coach that the manager told me to go home and whack the kraken?  That sounds like sexual harassment to me."

"You know you like it, slut."

"Touché, pussycat."

This would go on forever if you let it, and a part of you wanted to, but lunch hour was only going to last for so long.  "Okay, why are you here, Tecchan?"

He held up his bento box in the matching bag that you'd gotten for him.  "Just returning this.  It was good today, too, I liked the salmon a lot.  Anyway, what _were_ you guys talking about, then?"You took back the bento box, about to say it was nothing when Chiyo spoke up.  "We were just talking about going shopping after school.  You know, give her a break from being a slave to the volleyball team once in awhile."

"Chiyo," you said tersely.

"Yeah?"  Kuroo was, again, not offended, instead sounding interested in the idea.  He looked at you.  "You're going, right?"

"We have practice today, remember?" you countered with a frown.

"Yeah, _practice_.  You missing one day won't make us fall apart."

"I can't keep track of the team's progress if I'm not there."

"So give me your notebook--I'll write it up for you."

You tilted back a little, raising an eyebrow.  " _You_ will?"

Kuroo shrugged.  "Yeah, why not?  You've barely done anything outside of school and club, right?  Take a day and have some chick time."

Earlier when Chiyo and Mikage had brought up shopping, you'd been feeling bad about not being able to go.  Now that you had a chance, you were feeling bad about being able to go.  You were far more used to enduring, refraining and sacrificing.  Indulging yourself was unfamiliar.  But the more you thought about it and the more Kuroo pushed, you found yourself wanting to go.  You could also look for some things to decorate your home with, like your mother had suggested.

"You're sure?"

Kuroo crossed his arms and sighed.  "Yeah, I'm sure.  Now come on, give it over."

You were still hesitant as you pulled your notebook from your bag, watching it go into Kuroo's hands.

"Good," he said, idly waving the book back and forth like a wobbly fan.  "I'll give it back tomorrow, okay?  So go have fun and do whatever."  He gave a wink and walked out of the classroom.

"Guess it's settled, then," Chiyo chirped as she tapped her hands on the desk.  "Ugh, now I'm wishing there weren't any more classes after this."

"You'd wish that anyway," you joked, but you were feeling the same way now that your afternoon had different plans.

Mikage leaned forward in her seat, coming out of a moment of quiet thought.  "I wonder if Kuroo-kun has a girlfriend?"

"No, he doesn't."

"No?  Do you know for sure?"  From the way Mikage was staring, you saw you had answered too fast.

You did your best to mask your awkwardness with matter-of-fact indifference.  "Because I'm with him all the time, and I've never seen him with a girlfriend or talk about one, either."  Grabbing another apple slice, you popped it into your mouth to convey that the conversation was over.

But now Chiyo was attracted to the topic, too.  "That still doesn't guarantee he's single," she argued.  "It's always possible he has one that goes to a different school, or online, or one that he sees outside of the times he's with you."

The juicy pieces of apple in your mouth tasted sour.  It was true that you didn't spend every hour of the day with Kuroo, but you were more than anyone else, maybe seconded by only Kenma.  The idea that Kuroo had someone that you didn't know about, someone who saw entirely different and private sides of him, made the fruit go down your throat as pleasantly as pills.

"An online girlfriend would be more Ken-chan's speed, if anything," you waved dismissively, though realistically, Ken-chan would still probably prefer his games than even a virtual girlfriend.  "Tecchan would have told me if he has a girlfriend."

Chiyo held up her palms and shrugged.  "Hey, you know him better than either of us."

You smiled inwardly.  That was true.  No one was closer to him than you were.

Right?

****

Three hours filled with change rooms, browsing sizes, debating pricey items and eating delicious snacks had you being even more exhausted than you expected.  Once your hands were full of bags and your wallets were considerably lighter, the three of you said goodbyes to each other as you went to get on your respective trains.  You were standing on the platform amidst other commuters, the station echoing with crowd noise and public announcements, when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

_Tecchan: Having fun?_

Smiling, you tapped out a reply.

_Yeah, actually.  I can't remember the last time I went shopping with friends._  

_Tecchan: You're welcome._

_OK, fine, I'm glad you got me to go, thank you._

All of a sudden your phone screen switched to show an incoming call--from Kuroo.  You furrowed your brow and answered it.

"Why are you calling me?"

"Because I wanna hear you thank me, not just read it in text," came the self-satisfied reply.

You scoffed, "Really."

"Come on, if it weren't for me you would've come to practice like normal and watched a bunch of sweaty guys running and jumping around."

"But I like doing that," you giggled coyly.  In the background, a train pulled into the station on the opposite platform.

"What're you guys up to right now?"

"Um, we called it a night, so I'm just heading home."

There was a slight pause on the other end, and you thought you heard Kuroo grunt, but it could have been noise from one of the people waiting on the platform.

"Wanna come over for dinner?"

Blinking, you became overly self-aware of your heartbeat.  "What--tonight?"

A hasty breath, then a low muttering that you couldn't understand.  "Yeah, tonight.  You haven't come by yet, and mom's been bugging me to bring you over to say hi."  A beat.  "Toshi and Yasu would want to see you, too."

Toshiyuki and Yasuo--Kuroo's younger brothers.  When you last saw them, they were six and five years old, respectively.

"Okay," you said, chewing your lip.  "I'll be there in half an hour."

You somehow just knew that Kuroo was smiling.  "Alright, see you then."

Well after the call had ended, you kept clutching the phone close to your heart, as though it were some magical amulet.  An idea struck you then, and you rushed back up the stairs to the station, ignoring your train that was just arriving.

****

"You're late," Kuroo scolded playfully as you removed your shoes at the entrance.  "Also, holy shit. How much stuff did you buy?"

"It's not all for me; some of it's for the house."  You looked tired but happy, setting your shopping bags in the hall and stretching your shoulders.  One of the bags you still carried with you, and it contained a large white box.  "I got this for everyone--cake from that new bakery by the station."

Kuroo stared at the box, then at you.  "Is that why you were late?"

You looked away sheepishly.  "Well, I had to go back to the entrance where it was, yeah, but I came here as soon as I could."

He chuckled and patted your head.  "Still crazy about sweets, huh.  Thanks, though.  Come on, everyone's waiting."

Having you in the house again felt like a momentous occasion to Kuroo, like being reunited with a long-lost family member.  Upon seeing your face, his parents lit up with life, the mother swamping you with hugs and the father asking about where you had been this whole time.  Toshiyuki and Yasuo were much more restrained; having just become teenagers, they were not wholly comfortable being affectionate, especially to a girl who they had hazy memories of.  But as the old stories unfolded throughout dinner and recollections were pieces together, they warmed up to you and by the time dessert was served, they were on a first-name basis with you again.

It felt right to Kuroo, having you intertwined with his life like this.  He hadn't realized how much he missed it.

After tea and dessert, you had asked to see his room, since you had spent so many days there with him and Kenma in the past.  Seemingly restless, you hopped up onto Kuroo's bed and sat with your back against the wall to take in the once-familiar space.

Being passionate for volleyball didn't mean that Kuroo was an example of the dumb jock stereotype.  He was always smart and did well in school to begin with, but he was also pragmatic enough to know that relying entirely on the sport was short-sighted.  Where there were toys and manga before was now a bookcase filled with texts of a variety of subjects, the sides of the case draped with volleyball medals from various kids' games, amateur leagues and middle school tournaments.  A cork board above his desk had some information pamphlets for universities and flyers for cram schools tacked on, along with pictures from school trips and parties attended with friends and team members.  It looked to him like you were spending a longer amount of time looking at those, but he couldn't read your expression.

"It's smaller than I remember," you finally said.

"Such mean words for a girl to say to a guy," he fake-despaired.

You rolled your eyes, but there was amusement in them.

It was getting late and you needed to feed Kurosuke, so Kuroo took you home.  He carried most of your bags (one of them holding your club notebook) despite your stubborn insistence that you could manage on your own, but he simply held them up out of your reach until you gave up.  Sure enough, he later caught you stretching your shoulders and rubbing your neck in relief when you thought he wasn't looking.  It was enough for him to enter the building with you and say he'd carry your stuff up, and even though you pouted, you were far less resistant by then.

Within a few seconds of opening the door, Kurosuke came trotting up to you, mewing.  You softened right away and kneeled to pet him.

"Hi, baby, I'm sorry I'm late.  Did you miss me?"

As a way of replying, Kurosuke clambered onto your arms, forcing you to cradle him.

"He's gotten bigger," Kuroo observed, setting the bags down by the kitchen.

You nodded.  "Yep, and we got him chipped and fully checked at the vet, too."  You rubbed under Kurosuke's chin with the side of your fingers, and he closed his eyes in pleasure.

"Glad he's got a good home now."  Kuroo reached out to pat Kurosuke's little head.  The pointy ears flickered from his touch and the kitten's eyes popped back open to stare at his namesake.  Without any fear, he shot out a paw to tap at Kuroo's hand.

While you got Kurosuke's food, Kuroo looked around the condo suite.  

"Pretty big place."

You shrugged.  "Yeah.  Maybe a bit too big."

Kuroo noticed the kitchen table, where there were multiple cookbooks and magazines on nutrition, and a binder open to a page filled with notes.  In the entire suite, it looked to be the one area that had real signs of life.

You looked after the house, cooked him lunches, managed the team and fed them as well.  Guilt pricked at Kuroo, and he winced from it.

"Listen," he started, clearing his throat, "you really don't have to go this far, you know.  I mean, you already put a ton of effort into your notes on the team alone--making food for everyone probably takes you a lot of time, right?"

You sighed at him, but it was not in annoyance.  "I _want_ to do these things, Tecchan.  I finally get to stay in one place, make friends, buy things to decorate a place.  It is a lot of work, but it's work that I like."

"Fine, just don't let it get out of hand, all right?"  Kuroo came up to you and tapped a fist on top of your head.

You made a pouty face and playfully punched at his chest.  "I won't."

****

The following day you were noticeably low-energy.  Your eyes were stuck at half-mast, and during classes your head often rested in your hand.  Lunch was eaten slowly without enthusiasm, and at the end of the hour only about a third of the bento box had been consumed.  Kuroo had made a few taunting comments to get your attention, but they were half-hearted and overwhelmed by an acute sense of worry.  Your responses were equally lackadaisical, marked with sighs and slow, yielding comebacks.  Chiyo and Mikage suggested that you go to the nurse's office, but you refused, saying that you merely hadn't gotten enough sleep, and went to buy a canned coffee from the vending machines.

But even after drinking two cans of Boss Black, you fared no better during practice.  The team was going through drills while you stood off to the side; Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi were in their chairs nearby, occasionally barking criticisms and instructions at the members.  Yet their voices, the squeaking of shoes scuffing across the floor, and the smacking of the ball came through your ears as sludgy, underwater noise.  The entries in your notebook were fewer and less detailed, and your head had apparently become ten times heavier over the course of the day.

_Why am I suddenly feeling so awful?_ you wondered.   _Am I getting sick?  No, no, that can't be--I can't get sick.  This was just fatigue.  Mind over matter, you can do this, you just have to endure--_

"Watch out!!"

You felt the rush of air that immediately preceded the shot of a volleyball, shadowed and menacing, filling your vision.  Your arm had barely enough time to protect yourself when the ball smashed into the side of your head.

Black stars exploded in your vision as you went flying to the floor, your notebook and pencil both knocked away from your hands.  You would have gone completely prone if you hadn’t the reflex to slap your palm down and keep you propped up on your knees.  The force of the fall combined with the angle fired a sharp spike of pain coursed up the inside of your arm, adding to the throbbing ache of your head.

Your forearm and wrist tingled from taking the brunt of the impact.  You didn't even touch your head, as you feared doing so would make it even worse.  Maybe you moaned, maybe you didn't, but your mouth opened and shut stutteringly anyway.

The floor thundered as everyone approached.  In the moment it made you think of a herd of wild animals coming to trample you.

"Shit shit shit, I'm so sorry!" Lev cried in a panic, both hands held out in flux between reaching to help you up and keeping their distance to not hurt you more.  "I, I wasn't aiming properly, I was just trying to hit the ball--"

"Lev, you dumbshit!" Yaku shouted, "what's the point if the ball not only goes off-court but hits someone, too!?"

Biting your tongue, fighting through the roar of pain in your head, you raised your hand to motion 'stop' to everyone.  The footsteps slowed until a crescent of ASICS-clad feet fenced around you.

You winced and pulled yourself up--now it was not just your head but your entire body that seemed to have gotten heavier.  "It's... It's fine, Lev," you rasped out, feet doing a brief series of scattered steps to maintain your balance as you stood.  "That was my fault, I wasn't paying attention."  You lowered your hand and tried to smile, but your facial muscles apparently didn't want to do anything but scream from the hit you had taken.

"Hey, you should go to the nurse's office," Kuroo said, suddenly in front of you, "get yourself checked out and stuff."

"It's fine," you bit out, meaning to sound annoyed but coming across as tired and thin.   _Why won't the floor stop wobbling?_  "Really, let's just get back to practice, okay?"

"Bullshit you're fine.  You took Lev's spike to the head," Kuroo snapped angrily.  "The only way you'd be fine is if you were a robot!  Look at you, you can't even stand up straight!"

Fire burned in your face.  You would've smacked Kuroo if you felt sharp enough, but as it was now, a blindfolded dog would have been more agile than you.  You opened your mouth, about to use your primary weapon, when Coach Nekomata stepped in.

"Go to the nurse's office," he said in an unmistakable, 'this is non-negotiable' tone.  "You haven't been looking well all day today."

"I'll take her," Kenma mumbled out of nowhere.  Everyone looked at him--it was so rare for Kenma to proactively speak up.  Sasquatch sightings were more common.  Ignoring the awed stares, he picked up your pencil and notebook, smoothing out the creased pages, and held your gaze.  "Let's go."

You merely nodded and started walking.  Kenma stayed beside you with his hand on your shoulder, letting you know he would support you if you needed it.  Coach Nekomata shouted for everyone to get back to practice before the two of you had even left the gym.

Thankfully you didn't have a concussion, although you were going to be getting a decent bump on the head, the nurse told you.  Your arm was also going to sport a bruise like you’d had an Incredible Hulk moment with a blueberry tart, but would otherwise be fine.  What did concern her was how warm you were feeling.  Handing you an ice pack, she had you lie in one of the beds for a bit, then gave you and Kenma the strict instruction to go home for the day to rest.  She stared you down until your protesting expression faded, then left to go to the administration office.

It was much quieter here, especially now that it was after hours.  The late afternoon sun made the sterile whiteness of the infirmary less cold, and a slightly opened window let in a breeze that was refreshing.  The ice pack on your head brought much relief, but you still felt far from normal.  Kenma sat in a chair facing you, looking neither bored nor anxious.

"Thanks, Ken-chan," you murmured after a while.

He gave a tiny shrug.  "It's fine.  I know if anyone else had offered, you would have refused.  Especially if it was Kuro."

You went still.

Kenma raised his feet to rest on the rung of the chair and crossed his arms over his knees.  "You didn't want Kuro to call you a crybaby, so whenever you got hurt, you wouldn't let him see you.  But you were okay with me.  Just like that day you told me you were moving.  If Kuro had been there, you wouldn't have brought it up at all."

"I'm sorry."  You didn't know why you said that, or what else to say.  It would have felt unnerving to be this analyzed by anyone else, but you had always known Kenma to be deceivingly observant.  Maybe that was why you'd found it easy to go to him whenever you had a problem--he wouldn't bend himself out of shape trying to fix things, but would always hear you out. 

"No... I never minded that you relied on me," he said in his usual dull speech, but sounding uncharacteristically gentle.  "No one else really does, besides Kuro... but that's different, too.  And it's not like I _want_ anyone else to rely on me--just you."

"Just me?"

He nodded.  "You're the only one who was ever okay with me being the way I am."

"You make it sound like you're someone awful, Ken-chan.  You've always been you, and you're someone great.  I liked you ever since I could like anyone."  You spoke slowly, and the tail end of some of your words slurred, but you were happy to call this boy your friend.

Kenma sat for a while in silence as if soaking up what you'd said.  When he spoke again, he looked right into your eyes.

"Kuro likes you.  You like Kuro too, right?"

The ice pack slipped in your hand, wet from condensation.  Saying that you liked Kenma was easier than snapping your fingers, but when it that word became attached to Kuroo, suddenly it took on a frighteningly unknown significance.

The trees outside rustled in the wind, and a few lingering cherry blossoms wafted into the room.  Some faraway footsteps rang out in the hallway, and students involved with other clubs were heard shouting and laughing.  But none of them were going to answer for you.

"Yeah, I do."

"Then isn't it okay for you to rely on him?"

Kenma's words penetrated your skin like slivers; they threatened to delve deeper still, so you looked away.

He wasn't offended; he did the same thing all the time.

****

When Kuroo rang the doorbell the first and second time, he didn't get a response.  When he knocked on the door, he didn't get a response.  Clicking his tongue in irritation, he pulled out his phone and tapped out a text message.

_Open up._

He waited for several seconds until the screen showed that his message was read.  Three dots popped up and waved indicating a response was being written, then disappeared, then reappeared.

_Why?_

_Because I'm outside, dummy._

This time the dots didn't appear.  Kuroo sent a follow-up.

_I know you're home, so don't try to pretend you're not._

It took about two whole minutes before the door unlocked and opened to reveal you standing there.

You looked awful.

Your eyes were bleary with dark circles underneath, and your hair was wayward and matted.  The bump on the side of your head had gone down, but you were still holding up a bag of ice--or rather, cold water--against the spot, alternating between there and your forehead.  An oversized t-shirt and the team's red track pants were all that you had on, but from the way you were slouched, one would have thought they were made of lead.  Your lips were dull and chapped, and your nose was bright red with white flecks of peeling skin from blowing your nose countless times.

At first Kuroo thought he'd gone deaf when he saw you open and close your mouth, then you both realized that your voice was not working.  You held your throat and looked like you were stabbing yourself a few times before a distorted sound started to emerge from you.

"What.... you doi... here?" you asked, parts of your sentence wiped away by your ravaged throat.

"Just your friendly neighbourhood Nekoman," Kuroo smirked, but it was forced, and his expression quickly became serious.  "Club's over for the day so I came by to see how you're doing.  And I see the answer is: shittily."

You didn't even look annoyed at Kuroo, just... defeated and sorry.  Like your current state was deserved punishment for some offense you'd committed.  "I'll ...e fine," you croaked out, withdrawing into the suite.  "It's just a cold."  You were then attacked by a series of hacking coughs that shook your entire frame.

Kuroo followed you inside, closed and locked the door behind him, and removed his shoes.  He was carrying some plastic bags that rustled by his leg.  "Yeah, a cold that's kept you home for almost a week.  You know it was on the news about how a really bad one was going around."

"Which is why you shouldn't be here."  You took the long route to the kitchen to avoid being close to Kuroo.  "What would the team do if its captain got sick?"

"Doesn't mean it's fine for _you_ to be sick."  Kuroo said.

You turned the tap to fill a glass with water, but even that was painfully overwhelming for your body to handle.  Grimacing, you let the glass down onto the bottom of the sink with a metallic _thump_.

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.  "I told you not to overdo it."  He didn't say it in his usual smug 'I told you so' manner.

"Please, Tecchan," you pleaded, your voice shredded as if you'd been swallowing glass and sandpaper for the past few days, "just go home.  I'll get better soon."  Without looking at him, you merely leaned over the sink, head hanging like dead weight.  There was the crinkling of bags coming closer, then you were snatched up off your feet into a pair of arms.

"Tecc--" you couldn't even finish saying his name, flustered at being carried by him with your face so close to his.  The smell of his sweat somehow managed to make its way to your brain despite your congested sinuses.

"Just shut up for a bit," he grunted, striding over to your room.  He kicked the door open with his knee, briefly made a face when he saw the trash can by your bed overflowing with crumpled tissues, and plopped you down onto your bed.  Seeing that you were about to try to sit up, he pinned you down by holding your arms, his knees on either side of your legs.

"Here's what's happening.  I'm not leaving, not when you're like this.  You're staying right here, and I'm gonna take care of you."

_Ignore the fact that he's on top of you.  Ignore that you're both on your bed.  Ignore that he only has his t-shirt on under that track jacket and you could easily touch his bare skin if you slipped your hand in._

"I don't... want you to," you said, but the strength wasn't there in your voice.  You sounded and looked so small.  Kuroo didn't like it--but he knew you probably hated it even more.

His lips thinned and he let go of you to stand back up.  "Yeah, but you need me to."  He left the room and quickly came back with one of his bags to unload its contents on your desk: cold medication, premium tissue paper embedded with vitamin E and aloe to be gentle on the skin, cooling gel patches, throat drops, and hot ginger lemon tea sweetened with honey.  He made the steel bottle _clunk_ down on the hard surface like a gavel.

"Drink that with these," he instructed, breaking the plastic seal on the medicine bottle.  He held out his hand and waited until you opened your palm to press two capsules into it.  Then he headed to the bathroom and started filling the tub with hot water.  When he returned you were still holding the steel bottle and staring at him warily.

Kuroo jerked his head back towards the bathroom.  "Go take a bath when it's full.  You'll feel better."

The stare-off lasted for only so long.  They both knew he was right; weakened by your fever, you hadn't bothered to shower or bathe for the last two days.  But you also hadn't intended on seeing anyone either.  In the end you relented with a nasal-sounding "Okay."

When you were in the bathroom, he went to the living room to have a look around.  The last time he was here, the space was immaculately blank, with very little to set it apart from a display showroom.  Since then, there was the addition of a wall clock, colourful cushions on the sofa, framed artwork, and a high pile rug under the coffee table.  Areca palms and spider plants accented the corners of the living room, and a small lineup of succulents and cacti sat on the window by the kitchen table.

A fuzzy black figure caught Kuroo's eye.  Kurosuke wandered out of a room where the door was mostly closed.  Kuroo figured it was your mother's room.

"Hey, you, I was wondering where you were," he muttered, bending down to pick up the kitten.  "Has she been taking care of you?"

The kitchen was not messy, but there were a few used plates and utensils stacked by the sink.  Empty shopping bags that Kuroo recognized from your shopping trip were against a wall, filled with flattened cardboard boxes and plastic packaging for the various decor items in the suite.

The kitchen table, on the other hand, was a sprawling heap of recipes with your handwritten notes scaling them to feed the whole team, books on sports injuries and treatment, and homework from school.  Just by a casual glance, Kuroo could see that you had put in several hours' worth of work at this table.

Kurosuke mewed and nuzzled into the crook of Kuroo's arm, twisting around and looking for a comfortable position.  Kuroo used his knuckles to gently rub under the kitten's chin, and got a faint purr in gratitude.  He didn't seem hungry--just in need of comfort.

"At least you're better at admitting it," Kuroo said.

****

When you finished with your bath, you felt significantly better with your nose clearer and throat softened.  Dressing in a clean t-shirt and cotton lounge pants, you padded out into the living room and saw that while you were away, Kuroo had gotten rid of the old bags and load of tissues.  He had also fed Kurosuke since it was close to dinner time, though the kitten briefly halted eating to meow at you in greeting when he noticed you.

There was food for you and Kuroo as well.  Two prepackaged bento sets, juice, and instant soup sitting on the coffee table.  It was convenience store-fare, of course, but somehow it looked more appealing to you than most other things you'd forced yourself to eat all week.

"C'mon," Kuroo said, nodding towards the sofa, "let's eat.  Your soup will get cold."

The habit you'd developed over the years to resist any charity or pity was easily subdued by Kuroo's easy demeanour--like this was all normal for you two.  Like this was how it was supposed to be.  You followed him and curled up at one end of the sofa while he sat at the other.  A couple of Blu-ray movie boxes were on the table, both of them action films, both of them you recognized as being famously loud and stupid with more fiery explosions and car chases than dialogue.

"Borrowed 'em from Yamamoto," Kuroo explained through the cracking of hard plastic as he pulled off the bento box covers.  "Figured it'd be good to have something to watch where you don't need to think hard."

"Which these two movies definitely are," you agreed.  "What about horror movies or rom-coms?"

Kuroo shrugged as he started the movie in the Blu-ray player.  He handed you one opened bento box with chopsticks and a napkin, then reached for his own.  "I could handle horror, but not that torture porn shit.  Rom-coms, well--I _guess_ I can take a bullet, but it'd have to be balanced out with a quality make-out session, maybe with some dry-humping on the side."

You arched an eyebrow and peered into his face from where you sat.  " _Just_ making out and dry-humping?"

"If more is desired afterwards, who am I to refuse?"

"Too bad for you, then."

"Why?"

You grinned, for the first time in days.  "I hate rom-coms."

****

Once the movie was over, Kuroo cleared away the empty containers and utensils.  He dug something out of his bag and brought it back to you who was covered in a mohair blanket and holding Kurosuke on your lap.

"Notes and handouts from class.  Also took track of how we did at practice each day," he said as he laid notebooks and papers of the coffee table.

Kurosuke looked up as the hands stroking him left to pick up the sheets of paper.  What could be more important than smoothing his fur?

You looked over the sheets, several of them being fully handwritten notes by Kuroo on what happened in each class.  The notebook had the same level of detailed information that you always took down from practice sessions--even the formatting followed the example of your own.  He had done the same for the day you went out with Chiyo and Mikage, paying attention to numerous bits of data on each team member and jotting it all down so that it was if you had been there to do it yourself. 

It wasn't so much that you were surprised by Kuroo's diligence--he was in the advanced class for a reason, after all--but rather you were nonplussed by the extent he'd gone to for you.

"Why?" you blurted out.

"Because I'm such a nice guy."

"Was it nice when you used to give me horsebites?"

"Equally as nice as when you tackled me down that hill and we got covered in mud and grass stains."

You were unable to issue a rejoinder since you needed to blow your nose.  After a few gushy snorts and the sacrifice of two tissues, the desire to fire back had deflated.

"Thanks," you said to him.  But that didn't seem like enough.  "Thank you."

"For?"

The papers and notebook flapped down on your lap.  Kurosuke stared narrowly at the unwelcome things that had taken your attention away from him.  "For this--bringing me stuff.  Taking care of me.  Telling me to go with Chiyo and Mikage that day."

"You know, you _could_ try not to sound like you're counting off personal failures, there," he said dryly as he sat down with an elaborate sigh.  His long arm draped over the top of the sofa so that his hand dangled from the middle.

Energy was fleeing you again.  You rested your head on the back of the soft leather, idly thinking of how Kuroo's hand was within arm's reach.  Kurosuke smacked the sheets of paper between his paws.

"Getting tired?"

You nodded.

"All right, time to sleep."

There wasn't any reason to argue there.  Frankly, you didn't have much strength left to argue with.  Kuroo tossed the convenience store containers into an empty bag to be taken out with the rest of the garbage, and washed the dirty dishes that were by the sink while you brushed your teeth.  Kurosuke tailed after you on the floor, his tail sticking straight up in the air as a rudder.

In your room, you slipped into bed to lie on your side and pulled the covers up, expecting Kuroo to say goodbye and leave.

Except he didn't.  He sat down on the floor so that he faced you.  It made you feel like you were a kid again and about to get a stern lecture.

He let several seconds pass before speaking.  "Don't you trust me?"

You bristled.  It was a question asked in a light tone, but you detected the weight behind it.

"I do," you replied, your voice cutting off while saying the "I" part.

His eyes thinned just a second before he slapped his hand against your forehead.  Blinking, you were about to angrily ask what the hell that was for when you realized he'd stuck a cooling patch on you.  The dizzying smog in your head eased up quickly to grant some relief from your fever.

Kuroo sat back, resting his arm on one raised knee.  "Then show it.  Kenma's not the only one you can lean on, you know."

Kuroo's look was devoid of any teasing or mischief, but there was an undercurrent of hurt.  That little bit of vulnerability, reminiscent of when you'd left him eight years ago, called to the same one that you had buried deep within yourself under layers of iron confidence and stony self-reliance.

He went on.  "It must have been tough for you.  Your mom working all the time, and then you had to move all over the place.  I get that you had to become okay with doing everything yourself.  But that's not where you are anymore.  You've got friends and the team.  You've got Kurosuke.  You've got Kenma... and me."

Your hands were resting in front of your face.  He reached out to take one in his own, feeling it carefully like he would if it were Kurosuke, then closed his fingers around to softly squeeze.

"If you want something, just ask for it."

If your mouth hadn't been already open to let you breathe because your nose was so stuffed, it would have opened then.  This day had been so full of unexpected events that you wouldn't have been surprised if it were all part of an extended fever dream.  But the calloused hand holding yours, the heat that passed between them, the concerned hazel eyes staring at you, were real.

Years of being in temporary homes by yourself, growing from instant noodles to cooking your own meals, going to sleep alone.  Compare that to the long-established friendship that Chiyo and Mikage had, and the camaraderie between Kuroo and Kenma and their teammates.  The Kuroo home, old and cramped if he were to describe it, but rooted with memories and voices and life.  None of it could be helped, you had always told yourself.  There was no room for you to cry or complain, to want more.  But the boy that you'd spent the first half of your life with was here offering that.  There was no need to put up a strong front.

Kuroo didn't look upset that you gave no answer.  Instead he rubbed your palm with his thumb and got to his feet.

"I'll get going now.  There's more food and drinks in the fridge.  Feel better soon, okay?"

He made it as far as the doorframe.

"Tecchan."

He stopped at the sound of your voice, strained and quieter than Kurosuke's mews.  He turned around.

_What do you want?  Forget pleasing others, forget how you might look, what do you want the most right now?_

"Can you stay?"  The words were frail, like a quaking leaf.  It wasn't just because you were sick.  There was a lot of deep-set pride and bravado they had to go through.  

Kuroo's eyes went wide, then became gentle.  

"Yeah."

As he set out extra pillows and blankets on the floor by your bed, you felt a warmth rising in your body that you knew wasn't due to your illness.  The last time someone had slept next to you was before you had moved--and it was with the same person.  You, Kuroo and Kenma had been playing all day one summer, doing one-on-one matches of volleyball and looking for rhinoceros beetles and hiking through the nearby woods in-between, until you'd completely drained yourselves and fell asleep on the floor of Kuroo's house right after dinner.  Kenma was eventually picked up by his parents, but your mother was out of town, so you stayed.  At some point Kuroo's parents had moved you to his bed, and when you'd woken up in the middle of the night, you found his hand and held onto it like a life preserver.  In the morning, you were still attached to each other.

Kurosuke marched over to Kuroo and found a nice spot by his side to curl up in.  The middle blocker merely smiled and gave the kitten a goodnight scratch to the head before turning the lights off.

You gazed at him now, much older and bigger but still always there for you.  He teased and pranked anyone and everyone, loved to see people get riled up (much like yourself), and was obsessed with volleyball.  But he was good to his brothers, and cared about his team.  He probably would be a great boyfriend, too.

'Would be?'  Or 'is?'

"...Tecchan?"

A black, spiky head turned to you in the dark.  "Hm?"

"Do you..." you stopped to yawn, tried to continue but found yourself ensnared by fatigue in a death grip.

Kuroo watched your face slackening, and felt stuck between encouraging you to talk or rest.  "What is it?" he asked at nearly a whisper.

Invisible weights had been latched onto your eyelids.  "Do... do you have a..."  You drifted off as sleep finally claimed you, leaving the question half-formed.

For his part, Kuroo was curious as to what your question was, but he hardly let the matter keep him up once his turn with the Sandman approached.  If it was really important, he was confident you would ask him again when you were both more alert.  There was plenty of time, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love umeboshi. But it's gotta be the quality ones that are big and soft, not those tiny hard things that get used in convenience store bentos. :(
> 
> Chiyo and Mikage are, of course, original characters for the sake of this story. Two female friends felt like a better balance than one. The other students they mention (Naoki, Reiji, Reina) are all original as well. 
> 
> I'm incredibly keen on the idea of Kuroo having younger siblings. I feel like it would parallel his overall nature to look after others as he does for his team. 
> 
> When I was in Japan, I'd buy those hot lemon honey drinks from the convenience store all the time. They were basically non-medicinal NeoCitran, and sooo good in the winter. 
> 
> Catch me ranting about whatever, posting fic previews, giving mini-reviews on movies I see, and whatever else I do between work at my [Tumblr!](https://tanzanitedepths.tumblr.com/)


	4. Blind Spots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appreciation for [kyakoin](http://kyakoin.tumblr.com/) and [momothesweet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/), the latter of which assisted in refining Kuroo's medical knowledge. d=(´▽｀)=b

By nature Kuroo was an early riser.  He always set the alarm on his phone just in case, but most of the time he was up before it ever rang, taking the extra minutes to let the rest of himself wake up before actually getting out of bed.  

It was no different this morning, except for the fact that something soft was tickling at his neck.  He turned his face up and out of the pillow and saw a round black face with golden eyes coming into focus.  

“Hey,” he mumbled, holding his hand under Kurosuke’s chin to rub at it.  

Sighing to himself, he sat up, wincing from the soreness of sleeping on the floor.  It took him a moment to recall  _ why _ he was on said floor, but it still threw him for a loop as he slowly turned his head to see you asleep in your bed.  

That was all you were doing: sleeping.  Dressed, covered, and sick with a cold--as far from any kind of eroticism as possible.  Yet seeing you completely unguarded and relaxed like this had a curiously magnetic hold on Kuroo.  He hadn’t thought much of it last night when you’d asked him to stay, but the fact that he’d slept over at a girl’s house only now struck home with the weight of just how intimate of a situation this was.  

The memory of the young girl who he loved to tease and secretly looked forward to seeing how she might try to one-up him next was at odds with his more recently established male instincts; he was drawn to the even rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, and sorely wanted to move a stray bit of hair out of your face.  Right now your lips were quite dry but he remembered how they looked when you first showed up in class, and he imagined that they would still feel nice--

The diminutive mewing that Kurosuke made brought Kuroo back to reality as violently as if he’d been yanked by the arm.  The kitten was staring at him with a wide-eyed innocence that made Kuroo immediately uncomfortable.  

Picking the kitten up with one hand, he pocketed his phone and got to his feet.  He felt your forehead and noted that your fever had gone down considerably.  A very good sign.  

He closed the door to your room behind him as quietly as possible and headed to the kitchen.  After putting out some food for Kurosuke, he checked his phone and saw that Kenma had texted him.  

_ Kenma: Did you go see her yesterday?  Was she all right _ ?  

Kurosuke munching on his food distracted Kuroo for a second before he started tapping out a reply.  

_ Yeah, she was in rough shape before but looks like she’ll be much better today. _

_ Kenma: Today? _

_ I stayed over. _

_ I slept on the floor, okay?  She asked me to stay.   _

_ Kenma: Really _

_ What, you don’t believe me? _

_ Kenma: No, I do.  Just surprised.  Her mom was okay with it? _

_ She’s not around--busy with work.   _

Kenma didn’t reply for a while, the grey bubble with dots disappearing and reappearing.  

_ What? _

_ Kenma: Nothing.  Talk to you later. _

Kuroo frowned at the screen but didn’t press Kenma further.  

****

“So then what happened?” Chiyo asked.  

“Then… The next morning when I woke up he’d already fed Kurosuke and gotten breakfast from the convenience store,” you answered, resentful of the way Chiyo and Mikage’s scrutiny was making you feel.  

“Oh my god,” Chiyo said, her mouth exaggeratedly slack, “he’s boyfriending!”  

“That is not even a word, and no he isn’t,” you hissed under your breath.  There was no one else around to hear you on the school roof as you ate your lunches together, but you felt weirdly paranoid all the same.  

Mikage tilted her head at you.  “He came to see you when you’re sick, carried you princess-style to bed--”  

“Took you to  _ bed! _ ” Chiyo pointed out, earning her a slap on the arm from you.

“--Spent the  _ night in your room _ \--” here the emphasis came from Mikage herself, “--then brought you breakfast in the morning, and you don’t call that boyfriend behaviour?”  

“It was just stuff from the convenience store,” you argued.

“The guy phy-si-cal-ly brought you food,” Chiyo enunciated dryly.  “He thought about you and did something ahead of time--do you not get how big a deal that is?”  

“It’s not that big a deal!  He’d do the same for any of his teammates.  He’s used to taking care of people--he looks after his brothers, too.  And we’ve slept together tons of times.”  

The ‘are you for real’ looks from Mikage and Chiyo prompted you to quickly add, “As kids, I mean!  Jesus, you guys.”

Mikage leaned back on the old bench you were all sitting on and sighed.  “Yeah, but you’re not kids anymore, in case you hadn’t noticed.  If a guy friend tried to stay the night in my room, my dad would flay him alive.”  

“It’s just weird to even think about him that way,” you said, staring down at your feet.  

Chiyo finished her yogurt and let the plastic spoon clatter into the cup.  “Oh what, you mean you struggle to see him as seriously hot?  Does the childhood friend angle really make it that hard?”  

You pursed your lips and turned your chin down, but eventually looked up at your friends again.  “Yes, objectively, he’s hot.  But I also know a lot of other stuff about him, you guys.  He once spent a whole summer looking for every opportunity to sneak up on me and scare the shit out of me, and another time he tried to burn me with a magnifying glass.”  

“You also have an eight-year gap,” Chiyo pointed out, “And at a pretty important time, too.  Puberty, growth spurts, other kinds of spurts--”

Mikage groaned.  “Chiyo--”

“Okay look, all I’m saying is, he did a real nice thing for you and you already know you get along, so why not consider him as someone to be your boyfriend?”  

You crinkled your forehead.  “It’s because of that eight-year gap that I can’t.  I finally get to see him again after so long; I don’t want to do anything to risk losing that.  Anyway, I don’t care if he has a girlfriend or not.  I still have him as my best friend, and I’m fine with that.”

Your friends said nothing, both noting your incredibly pouty expression.  It was one that screamed, ‘I am  _ not _ willing to share.’

****

“Karasuno High School?”  

Kuroo nodded, tugging at his jersey’s collar to fan some air onto his chest.  “They’re from Miyagi, where we’re going for Golden Week’s training camp.  Their team apparently got some new blood in them, so they’re looking to practice with other teams to get serious.”  

“They used to be a strong team?” you asked, handing him his water bottle.  Practice matches were going to start becoming more common as teams worked their way towards the Inter-high preliminaries.  Any and every offer from another school was worth consideration at the very least.  

Kuroo accepted with a quick “thanks” and took a big swig before continuing.  “Once upon a time, yeah.  They used to be neck and neck with us.  I heard that the old coach’s grandson is now coaching the team, which is what got Nekomata interested in the first place.”  

“Karasuno and Nekoma,” Lev said to himself in fascination.  “Crows and cats!  It’s like we were meant to battle each other!”  

Kuroo narrowed his eyes and glared at Lev.  “Don’t get so excited.  You’re not coming with us this time.”

“What!?  But why!?”  Even with his impressive height, Lev still managed to come off like a young child with his animated behaviour.  

An annoyed grunt came from Kuroo’s throat as his lips popped off of his water bottle.  You couldn’t help but notice when a stray ribbon of water streamed over his chin and disappeared down his chest.  

“You don’t have any of the basics down yet,” Kuroo scowled, “do you really think you get to coast by on your height and strength alone?  There’s no such thing as an ace that can’t even do proper serves and receives!”  

You felt a bit sympathetic for Lev as he slumped in disappointment, but could hardly disagree with Kuroo.  The self-proclaimed ace was terrible aside from his powerful whip spike.  He had nonexistent hand-eye coordination so he constantly missed the ball even after calling it, and his horrible sense of timing meant that even his spikes were not executed reliably.  

It wasn’t just techniques--Lev was overflowing with bad habits regarding movement and athleticism in general.  He didn’t bend his knees as much as he ought to, limiting his jump height as well as creating a greater risk for injury, and he became tunnel-visioned when a ball was coming his way, turning him into a lanky, overeager collision hazard for other players.  The cherry on top was that he was not the fastest learner, which frustrated everyone else to no end.  Nonetheless, they all pitched in to correct his mistakes, for a team was only as strong as its weakest link.  

And Lev definitely had potential--he just needed to be whipped into shape.  

“Don’t get so down, Lev,” you chirped, patting his shoulder with your notebook.  “I’ll bring you back something nice from Miyagi--maybe some zundamochi or something.”  

Lev’s already large eyes widened further.  “Really?”

You held up a conditional finger in front of his face.  “ _ If _ \--you practice the basics extra hard and make a clear improvement by the time we’re back.  Otherwise, we’ll just eat them all in front of you.  Got it?”  

Lev’s face fell.  “G-got it.”  

“All right.  Now that that’s settled, you know what’s next.”  

He made a pained whine, strange to hear coming from such a large figure.  “Do we have to do this?”  

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms in a no-nonsense manner.  The rest of the team stopped chatting to pay attention to the two of you, aware of what was coming next.  

Defeated, Lev turned away from you and crouched down.  You hopped onto his back and let him hook his arms around your legs for support while you pulled out your phone and selected the stopwatch function.  

“Consider yourself lucky we don’t have an actual tire we can get you to drag,” you said, resting your elbows on his shoulders.  “This is all for the sake of building up your stamina.  Six laps, let’s go!”  

“Six!?  Aw, come on, I’m already tired from practice!”

“Do you want it to be ten?  Then giddy-up!”

There was the beep of the stopwatch, and Lev was out the door while carrying you, jogging towards the outdoor track.  The others watched in amusement as you circled the oval, Lev already panting in exhaustion while you taunted/encouraged him.  

“Was she always like that?” Yaku asked Kuroo and Kenma.  

“Oh yeah,” Kuroo answered with a scoff.  

Yamamoto frowned.  “Kinda seems like she’s doing it more out of fun than a sense of training, though.”  

“It’s not just that.”  

Kenma’s quiet statement got a few eyes to look at him.  

“Lev was still apologizing about hitting her with the ball even after she said it’s okay,” he mumbled.  “It might seem like she’s picking on him, but she doing this mainly so that he’ll stop feeling so guilty.”  

The silent understanding that coursed through the team was broken by the sound of your laughter; you were swatting Lev’s behind with your notebook like a jockey with a riding crop, urging your ride to go faster while he groaned wearily.  

The rest of the team gradually left for home, but Kenma and Kuroo waited for you.  When Lev finally finished his laps and dragged himself back to the gym, Kuroo cackled at the younger middle blocker’s feebleness while teasing you about being so heavy that you nearly killed his teammate.  You jumped down from your mount to rush at Kuroo and kick his leg but grinned widely as you made a snarky retort.  

Kenma continued to observe, thinking about how neither you, Lev, or even Kuroo himself had noticed the loaded expression he’d had on his face moments earlier as he watched you being so close to another guy.  

****

Even though most of your time would be spent indoors during training camp, you were still happy that Golden Week was set to have sunny, almost summer-like weather.  There was no room for sightseeing but you and the rest of the team were excited nonetheless, this being the first real step towards the Inter-high prelims.  

Aside from the coaches, the Nekoma team had never visited Miyagi prefecture before, but when you arrived at the high school of your first practice match and took in the vague scent of dust and sweat and felt the squeak of the floor under your shoes, familiar comfort and fiery competitiveness flooded everyone like a drug.  

Following greetings with the hosting school’s team, warm-ups were done quickly, with you assisting Coach Naoi in having the team do drills.  When the matches began, you stood on the sidelines with the coaches, diligently jotting down notes on every player from both teams.  

The energy within Nekoma was assuredly different than when they just practiced at home.  Interacting with a whole other group was stimulating and nerve-wracking, but no less addictive.  Everyone shouted and grunted louder, ran faster, and hit the ball harder.  It also gave you a chance to really evaluate Nekoma itself by having another team to compare to.  

“What are your thoughts so far?”  

You blinked and took a moment to realize that Nekomata was talking to you.  You hesitated, then cleared your throat.  

“The team’s skills are solid, and each of its members works well together.  Kenma can read and analyze the opponents while Mori deflates their attacks and turns them into opportunities for Take.  In both offense and defense, we’re balanced across the board, which can make our matches boring to watch.  Our opponents will figure that because we don’t have any outstanding players, we can be easily taken down.  But...”

The opposing team hit spike after spike, but they continued to be intercepted.  Rather than attacking at every opportunity, Nekoma carefully waited, maintaining communication verbal and otherwise between each other to decide on the best course of action while wearing down the other team.  Fatigue and confusion began to show in their opponents--they had yet to understand why they weren’t winning, and the subtle but steady chipping away at their confidence was weakening their abilities.  

Kenma tossed the ball.  Yamamoto made a dash for it, sending the blockers his way, but they hadn’t noticed Kuroo sneaking up from behind him to the far side until it was too late. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Kuroo’s hand make contact with the ball, the hard slap echoing in your ears as it rocketed to the other side and pounded into the floor.  The whistle blew to announce Nekoma’s victory.  Cheers rose up and high fives went all around.  The noise muffled your voice a little, but Nekomata managed to hear you finish your thought.

“Cats, by nature, hide their claws and fangs until they use them.”

****

Yaku frowned as he took a gulp from his water bottle.  “Hey, manager, did you change something in our sports drink?”  

“Oh, yeah, I started making the Potari Sweat with double the water than the package says--otherwise you guys would be getting too much sugar.  Also, guys, I want you all to put your knee pads in that bin there so they can be washed--the sooner the better so they can air-dry and be ready for tomorrow.”  

“What’s the point?” Yamamoto asked.  “They’re just gonna get dirty again tomorrow.”  

“Because they stink like absolute hell, Take-chan--”

“T--Take-chan!?”  Yamamoto’s face went red and his entire body turned to stone. 

“What about that spray that you made?  It had antibacterial properties, right?”

“That’s more of a temporary solution, Nobu.  And unless you guys are fans of getting rashes or staph infections, you’ll want them to be cleaned as much as possible.”  

****

Following a hearty meal that you had prepared, the team members relaxed in their room, sitting on the provided futons.  Kenma was absorbed in a popular new mobile game while Kuroo reviewed the notes you had taken for the day.  The others were either hanging out nearby or taking baths.  

“So the burning question is,” Yamamoto declared to Inuoka and Shibayama, “will Karasuno have a female manager or not?  I wager a yakisoba bread that they don’t!”  

“I mean, it’d be nicer if they did, so I’d like to believe they do,” Inuoka said, wondering how he and Shibayama got roped into this lecture.  

“What does it matter?” Shibayama asked.  “We already have our own female manager!”  

The skin at the sides of Yamamoto’s head visibly went taut.  “Well yeah, but that…”  He didn’t finish, uncomfortably glancing at Kuroo and Kenma.  “Th-that doesn’t count!”  

A knocking came at the door before you slid it wide open.  “Hey guys!” you said brightly.  “What’re you talking about?”  

There was an awkward silence that lasted only a second or two as everyone besides Kenma turned to look at you.  You seemed oblivious to their hesitation and trotted over to Kenma to chat with him about the game he was playing, but the others couldn’t help but notice how your hair was still damp, the collar of your loose t-shirt darkened with a few dots of water that had eluded the towel draped over your shoulders.  

“So,” you prompted, perching yourself on the futon with your elbows on your knees, “what were you talking about?”  

Kuroo laughed dryly.  “Well, Yamamoto here evidently thinks you don’t count as a girl.”  

The chagrined look you shot at Yamamoto nearly brought a whimper out of him.  “Is that true, Take?”

No “chan” was added on there--Yamamoto knew he needed to choose his words carefully.

“I-I didn’t say that!  I was just wondering if Karasuno would have a female manager!”  He frantically looked at Shibayama and Inuoka for help, but they kept their eyes averted.  

“Weeeell, if you wanted advice on how to talk to girls, you  _ can _ ask me, you know?  Me being one and all.”  

“It’s just not the same,” Yamamoto mumbled.  “You’re, I dunno, more like... the team mom or something than a girl.”  

_ “What?” _ you cried in disbelief, slapping your palms onto the futon.  You furiously glared at Yamamoto like you wanted to slap that mohawk off his head.  “You see me as the  _ mom _ !?”  

Kuroo spit out a breath and burst into a fit of laughter while clutching at his sides.  Yamamoto paled and held his hands up, opening and closing his mouth rapidly like a fish that had been swimming in energy drinks.

You were just about to subject Yamamoto to a verbal lashing when Kuroo’s large hand landed on top of your head and messed up your hair, forcing you to look at him.  

“Now now, don’t be too hard on him, Mama,” he grinned, delighting in your miffed look.  As he got to his feet he pulled you up with him and started walking towards the door.  

“Where are we going?” you demanded.  

“We’re getting something to drink, now get your legs moving.”  He pushed you out of the room first so that he could mouth ‘you owe me’ at Yamamoto, then slid the door shut.  

Shibayama and Inuoka gave restrained chuckles as Yamamoto breathed a sigh of relief and flopped onto his back.  Kenma rolled his eyes.  

“Yamamoto-san, you really don’t know how to talk to girls, do you,” Inuoka sighed in sympathy.  

“Shut the hell up.”  It was already unnerving that you tended to ignore honourifics with your teammates regardless of their age.  Add to that the way that you were so comfortable hanging around guys, not afraid to call them on their shit while being caring and understanding as manager, and the cherry on top of calling him Take-chan?  

It was too much.  You made it too easy.

“I don’t wanna think about someone that way,” Yamamoto grumbled, rubbing at his face.  “Not when they’re already taken.”

Shibayama and Inuoka had nothing to say to that.  Kenma went back to his game, feeling a little more respect for Yamamoto.

****

The lights in the hallway were off except for the emergency exit signs and the pale blue glow coming from the cluster of vending machines in a small lounging area.  

Kuroo tossed some change into the slot.  “What do you feel like?”  

You tilted your head as you sat down on one of the cushioned benches.  “Shouldn’t you know me well enough to not have to ask?”  

“Hmm, let’s see, then.”  Kuroo traced his finger along the rows of drinks on display in the machine.  “You never were huge on sodas.”  

“Still am not.”  

“Water’s probably too boring.”  

You pointed off to the side.  “There’s a fountain right there.”  

He got to the smaller cans of fruit drinks and paused, then moved onto the various varieties of coffee and energy drinks.  Finally, he firmly pressed one of the buttons, and a bottle thudded to the bottom of the machine.  

“Our finest ‘17 Soukenbicha for you, ma’am,” he said in a priggish manner while holding out the bottle to you in both hands like a sommelier.  

“Excellent choice,” you said just as snootily.  You cracked the seal of the cap and took a long gulp while Kuroo got himself a Potari Sweat.  

“So besides wanting to show me this wondrous bar,” you said, gesturing with both arms, “why’d you bring me out here, Tecchan?”  

Kuroo leaned against the machine and pulled your notebook from inside of his jacket.  “Wanted to give this back--you’ve made some good observations on the team.”  

“Yeah?”  You took the notebook back, noticing the warmth of his body was still clinging to it.  

He took a sip and almost made a face at how strong the Potari Sweat tasted--you were right, it did have too much sugar to drink too much of.  “Yeah.  It’s true that we’re not the most exciting team from a spectator’s point of view.  We’re closer to being a jack-of-all-trades with no specific area of expertise.”  

“But that makes you guys flexible.  A team that’s heavy on offense will be lacking in defense and vice-versa.  I think as long as you guys keep adding to the repertoire of tricks you have, you’d be great.  Like, Nationals-level great.”  

One of Kuroo’s razor-sharp eyebrows arched.  “Did you just basically say I’m great?”  

“I did not.  I said the  _ team _ would be great.”  

“Yeah, and I’m the captain of that team.”  

Your response was not instantaneous, but still quick.  “I’m a part of that team, too, aren’t I?  If you’re great, then so am I.”

“Mom of the year.”

“Ugh, stop it!” you muttered.  

Why were you so cute when you got pouty like this, Kuroo wondered in the back of his head.  He wanted to see more, hear more.  

He pushed himself off the vending machine, bent down so that his hair tickled your forehead, and said in a low voice, “If it makes it any better, you can call me daddy.”  

Even in the dark with his face shadowing yours from the vending machines’ glow, he could make out the widening of your eyes and the slight parting of your lips, if only for a couple of seconds.  Then your shield of sardonicism came back up again.

“Dream on, you pervy old man.  And no, it doesn’t make it any better.”  

“I doubt Yamamoto meant anything bad by it.  You know how dumb he is.”  

Your track pants swished as you crossed your legs.  “Okay, then how do you see me?  You guys are the blood and Ken-chan’s the brain, spine, and heart--where do I fit in?” 

Kuroo straightened and took another sip, swishing his drink around in his mouth for a while.  “You are… the team’s peripheral nervous system.”

“ _ Peripheral _ nervous system,” you repeated, putting accusatory emphasis on that first word.

“I’m not saying you’re nonessential, just shut up and hear me out.  You pay attention to everything going on in the team and pick up on what needs to be done.  You look out for our movements and actions and look for solutions to enhance them as much as possible.”

“Geek.”

“Excuse you,  _ Captain _ Geek,” Kuroo shot back without missing a beat.  “We might’ve worked well without you before, but if we make it to Nationals it’ll be because you helped us.”  

He’d unsettled you again, but this time you were a little pleased, though fighting to hide it.  This, too, was nice to see.  

“You think so?”  

He casually shrugged.  “Yeah. Everyone’s eating better, they’re better at taking care of themselves--even Lev’s being more like a normal player than a lanky toddler.  ‘Course, you getting all up-close and personal with him probably has something to do with it.”  

“What do you mean by that?”  

“You clinging to him while he carries you around--that kind of thing can send the wrong message, you know.”  

“I do the same thing to you, why does it matter?  And he knows we’re just friends!”  

Small shadows formed at your brow as you frowned uncomfortably at Kuroo, but unlike before he didn’t find it endearing.  In fact, he was feeling tense and kind of pissed--but he kept his tone nonchalant.  “Sure, whatever.”  He started back to the boys’ room at a brisk pace, ignoring you calling his name.  

It was too bad the gyms were closed--he was confident he could pull off some  _ very _ hard spikes right now.

****

Karasuno was an interesting team, to say the least.  

The third years were all experienced players.  Kuroo could tell they were still rusty from a period of inactivity, but it wouldn’t be long before that would change.  And the other first years had plenty of raw potential, particularly that severe-looking sourpuss and the loud shrimp with bright hair.

Even with Kenma pointing out that that tiny kid had been wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Karasuno High School’ when he came across him the other day, Kuroo still found it hard to believe that was actually a high schooler.  But what he lacked in size, the shrimp more than made up for in enthusiasm, speed, and ridiculously high jumps.  The blind quick that he pulled off with the sourpuss had been so shocking the first time they’d done it that not one member of the Nekoma team, on the court or off, could move or speak for a few seconds.  

But there was no such thing as an unbeatable move.  A secret weapon’s biggest strength lay in the confusion and doubt it created, but that made its enemies that much more motivated to dissect.  And it wasn’t long before Nekoma figured out a way to shut down the blind quick, swatting the young crows down to the ground.  

Half a dozen matches followed after Hinata had demanded more.  Nekoma won them all but both sides were equally drained at the end with players either spread-eagled on the floor or standing on shaky legs, gasping for breath.  

But they were all smiling.  

Kuroo recalled a saying about the number one killer of old people being retirement.  Not to say that Nekoma was in danger of going under, even before your arrival, but he had been conscious of the complacency that came packaged with having no clear rival.  Of course, winning Nationals was and always had been the ultimate goal, but something closer and more tangible would make it easier for the team to focus on the moment.  

Evolution didn’t occur without competition.  

Outside, everything was lit orange and red from the fading day’s light.  ‘Friendly’ conversation was exchanged between the old rivals as Nekoma prepared to leave; Kenma was actually engaged in his talk with Hinata, and you were chatting with Kiyoko Shimizu (so Inuoka and Shibayama were getting their yakisoba bread, Kuroo mused).  

Further in the distance was Yamamoto with Karasuno’s wing spiker and libero.  The three of them were huddled together and not-so-subtly watching you and Shimizu with reverent awe.  Kuroo sighed.  When his gaze happened to lock with Yamamoto’s, the latter shrank back and Kuroo felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.  

After finishing up with Shimizu, you made a beeline to Kageyama and Hinata.  With a call of their names, the two boys went stiff as pencils, undoubtedly bewildered by how casually you, an older girl, approached them.  Whatever you were saying, which had you looking cheery, was making them blush and blurt out choppy responses.  

Kuroo could not resist.  Hands in his pockets, he sauntered up to you.  

“Are you picking on another team’s juniors, manager?”  

You gave a roll of your eyes.  “Hardly.”  

“Hitting on them, then?”

“Who can say?” you replied coyly, then shifted back into friendly manager mode.  “I was just telling these two how talented they are.  With your speed and agility, and your control and precision, you make for a powerful combination.  Makes me wish we had you on our team.”  

“Th-thank you, senpai!” Hinata shouted, bowing at the waist.  Kageyama scowled at his teammate in embarrassment. 

“That quick of yours is really something.  Judging from how thrilled you guys looked the first few times you nailed it, you probably see that move as your ace in the hole.  But you can’t expect to one-trick pony your way to Nationals with it alone.  Keep your eyes open for various moves that work for you, okay?”  

“Yes!” Hinata and Kageyama said in unison.  

“I hope we play you guys again soon.”  

“So do we!” Hinata nodded vigorously. 

“We should get going,” Kuroo said to you.  “Don’t wanna be late for the bullet train.”  

“Right.  Keep practicing, you cute little nestlings.”  You waved at the two first years, holding back a giggle as you caught a glimpse of their faces going bright red before turning around to rejoin the team.  

The bullet train ride back to Tokyo would take a little under two hours.  Most of the team quickly fell asleep the moment they sat in their seats, filling the train car with a chorus of light snoring.  You, Kenma and Kuroo were seated together, with Kenma and Kuroo by the window and you in the aisle.  Kenma was playing games at first, but after fifteen minutes or so he nodded off, leading you to turn his phone off and slip it into his pocket.  Even Naoi and Nekomata were taking a nap, but you and Kuroo remained awake like a pair of crimson sentries in your matching tracksuits.  

There was still a bit of sun left, casting a warm glow on you and Kenma from the window.  You were writing in your notebook again, but you didn’t have the severe, focused expression that you normally did when observing a match.  Instead you looked gentle and calm--maternal, even, with you sparing a moment to look over at Kenma when he made a sound in his sleep.  

A wry smile formed on Kuroo’s lips as he thought back to your annoyance at being called a mom.  In reality, though, you would probably make an excellent mother.  You were a natural at looking after people and being attentive to their needs but were also nosy and bossy enough to not take others’ shit.  You knew firsthand what it was like for a child to feel lonely, so you would try extra hard to make sure that your own kids would be loved all the time.  

You stretched and yawned, halting Kuroo’s hypothetical thoughts.  Rubbing at your eyes, you glanced at him.  

“Tecchan, aren’t you tired?” you asked softly.  

“I’m fine.  You sound like you could take a break, yourself, though.”

“I’ll sleep when I get home,” you argued, though you were clearly ready to pass out at any second.  

“So do that--just sleep here, too.  Nothing wrong with it.”  Kuroo leaned back in his chair and added with a smug look, “I’ll make sure no one attacks you.”  

“You’re so sweet.”  

He cocked his head at you.  “Unless you  _ want _ to be?”  

You pushed your shoes off and brought your knees up to your chest, your notebook and pen protectively held in your lap.  “So what if I do?  Maybe I’m up for some fun with a hot stranger.”  

With that said, you closed your eyes and snuggled into the headrest.  Within minutes, you were out like a light.  

Were you just talking shit due to fatigue?  Or did you mean that, at least partially?  Had you said those things to other guys before? Kuroo wasn’t sure.  There was an increasing amount that he wasn’t sure about when it came to you.  The little bit of satisfaction he got from seeing your (grown) sleeping face again was diminished by the possibility that someone else had seen it before him--or worse yet, more than just your face.  

There was nothing wrong with that--of  _ course _ he wouldn’t like the idea of someone else creeping over his childhood friend, trying to get their grubby paws on her.  

That was perfectly natural, wasn’t it?  

****

Your arms were full with handouts that the homeroom teacher had tasked you with giving to the class.  Walking through the sunlit hallway, you were checking the stack to make sure you had enough for everyone when your peripheral vision caught a messy, dark head of hair.  You raised your head and instinctively began to open your mouth to call Kuroo’s name, but then stopped before you made a sound.

Kuroo was standing in the classroom doorway, and directly in front of him was a pretty girl with long, dark hair.  She was slim and petite and must have been a first or second year as you didn’t recognize her at all.  She looked nervous but happy, knotting her fingers together as she said something and Kuroo nodded and began to follow her down the hall.  Neither of them had noticed you.  

You followed them.

The girl led Kuroo outside to a secluded spot surrounded by trees.  You stood with your back against the wall, peeking around the corner to observe the two.  The girl spoke too quietly for you to hear what she was saying, but you got the idea as she said Kuroo’s name earnestly and looked into his eyes.  He blinked, then smiled at her.  

The instant you saw that your entire body tensed.  Like an animal that had caught wind of danger, you beat a hasty retreat to your classroom.  

The weather was only mildly warm today but a hot dizziness swirled in your mind and your legs felt unreliable.  When you were in front of your classroom again, you paused by the door to catch your breath and a sharp pain caused you to look down.  The edges of the handouts were bent and crinkled, and a paper cut streaked your index finger with a needle-thin line of red.  

****

With Golden Week over, students lamented not only the return to classes but midterm exams which loomed on the horizon.  Exam period made the team doubly upset, since not only did they have to deal with a week of exhausting tests, but they would get to play far less since all clubs reduced activities to allow for more studying.  

For this weekend, you had offered Chiyo, Mikage, Yaku, Kai, Kenma and Kuroo an invitation to come to your place for a study session, as it was spacious enough and you could cook for them.  Kenma would be the odd one out as he was still a second year, but you and Kuroo helped him with tests since childhood and neither of you were up for breaking that tradition now.  

Your mother had left early in the morning to go out of town for a conference, and would not be back until late, so you sent her off with a homemade bento which was portions of the various dishes you’d made for the study session.  Everything had been made ahead of time so that you would not have your attention divided, with only a few things that would require reheating before being eaten.  

You took a look around the condo to ensure everything was clean and tidy and there were enough seat cushions around the table in the living room--looked good.  All that remained now was to wait.  

You plucked another gummy candy from a bag (you’d been nibbling on them all morning while preparing) and sat down on one of the seat cushions as you began to read from your history textbook when the doorbell rang.  Kurosuke’s tail swished back and forth like a metronome, intrigued by the stranger’s arrival.  

“Let’s go see who it is, huh?” you said, petting the kitten’s head as you got up.  It wasn’t like you had a long list of possible candidates, but for some reason, you were still surprised to see Kuroo there when you opened the door.  

“Hey,” he said with a smirk before stepping inside.  

“Aren’t you kind of early?”  You didn’t see him in casual clothes often; well-worn black jeans and plain white t-shirt underneath a dark grey button-down.  He looked good.  Fine, more than good.  

Kuroo shrugged as he took off his shoes.  “Didn’t have anything else going on, figured I’d get a head start.”  Kurosuke hopped over to immediately start climbing onto his leg, leading to Kuroo chuckling and trying to pull the kitten off without getting his claws snagged in his jeans.  

Feeling fidgety, you led him to the living room where you started going over the exam material together.  

It had been a few days since you saw Kuroo with that girl.  You hadn’t seen her around, but more disturbingly, he hadn’t brought her up with you.  Why wouldn’t he?  Weren’t you best friends?  Did he not trust you?  

“Tecchan?”  

Kuroo was twirling his pen in his hand.  “Hmm?”  

The words stuck in your throat but you forced them out as casually as possible.  “Do you have a girlfriend?”  

The pen stopped.  “Why do you ask?”  

You shrugged.  “Um… a friend of Mikage’s wanted to know.”  You made an incredulous face.  “ _ Apparently _ she thinks you’re cute.”  

“Smart--I like that in a girl.”  

“So?”  

“So what?”  

You arched your eyebrows and held out your hands.  “Girlfriend?  Yes or no?”  

“I approve of them.”  

“Be serious.”  

“I approve of them seriously.”  

“Can you stop dicking around and answer properly?”  

He sat back to lean against the bottom of the sofa, his head leisurely tilting to one side.  “No,” he finally said after studying you for a while, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now.  What about you?”

Off to the side, you noticed Kurosuke, who was playing with his favourite toy mouse.  “No, I do not have a girlfriend, Tecchan.” 

He shook his head in disappointment.  “Shame.  Boyfriend, then?”  

“A few in the past,” you replied with your chin turned up.  “Even kissed them, too.”  

Kuroo covered his mouth and gasped in shock.  “Scandalous!  But still, quality over quantity, you know.”  

“What are you saying?”

“Saying just because you did it, doesn’t mean it was good.”  He reached into the bag of candy on the table and pulled out a piece.  

“Are you projecting, Tecchan?  Because  _ I _ never got any complaints.”  You huffed and took the bag, only to find it was alarmingly light.  Most likely owing to the fact that it was empty.  “What--you took the last one?”  

Kuroo shrugged, the plastic wrapper crackling as he tore it open.  “You tell me.”

“You did!” you cried, eyes widening as you noticed the wrapper.  “And it was a muscat one, too!”  

Kuroo grinned as he held up the pale green gummy.  You got up on your knees and tried to grab for it but he kept it out of reach by stretching his arm up high.  

“Give it to me!” you demanded.  

“Not a chance, loser!  You snooze, you lose!”  

Kuroo let you see the candy for one tantalizing second before popping it into his mouth.  “You want it, you come get it,” he taunted.  

It was as though you had become kids again, slipping into the same routine that you’d done so many times in the past.  Except it wasn’t the same, not anymore.  For some reason, Chiyo’s words circled your mind like hungry sharks.   _ Oh what, you mean you struggle to see him as seriously hot? _

At the very least, that girl found Kuroo attractive--but what did he think of her?  Was that his type?  Or maybe someone like Shimizu who was graceful and mature?  

A bitter and sour taste brewed in the back of your mouth.  You wanted to smack that cocky grin off his face.  You lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar, catching a glimpse of his expression going from smarmy to surprised, and planted your lips on his in an abrupt kiss.  

The sound Kuroo made in his throat was distracting but you did not relent, planting your knee between his thighs so that you could push deeper into him.  His hair tickled your forehead.  

The two of you did not stay like this for very long; when your head began to get dizzy and there was a compulsion to touch more of him, you grunted and pulled away with some effort.  For a few seconds you looked just as stunned as he did, but then you recovered and took on the smug Cheshire grin that he’d been wearing for yourself.  

“Quality over quantity, was it?” you said haughtily, poking your tongue out to lick your lips.  

Kuroo tensed, but before he could say anything the doorbell rang.  You sprang to your feet and went to open the door, secretly thankful for the interruption.  

“Ken-chan!” you said a little too loudly when you saw your friend.  “Come on in!”

Kenma eyed you thoughtfully, then peered past you at Kuroo.  “Hi,” he replied, stepping over the threshold.  

“Um, everyone else isn’t here yet, but in the meantime, we can get started,” you said.  “Tecchan’s here, too.”  

“Yeah, I see that,” Kenma deadpanned.  

“Do, ah, you want anything to drink?”  

Kenma had removed his shoes but was still sitting on the floor to meet with Kurosuke who’d come to inspect this new visitor.  “I dunno, I guess whatever’s fine--juice, if you have it.”  

You could feel Kuroo’s gaze boring holes into you but you ignored it and headed to the kitchen.  There was a numbness in your hands as you retrieved a glass from the cupboard, and your body sagged from the coolness that emanated when you opened the fridge.  It was as if you’d been punched in the head and only now was the impact of that finally registering.  

You poked at the gummy candy with your tongue, the firm yet soft texture reminiscent of Kuroo’s lips.  The sweet muscat taste was much more intoxicating knowing you’d pried it from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> w(°ｏ°)w
> 
> Things are escalating!


End file.
